<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Boys Don't Cry by Arisa_K</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23857144">Boys Don't Cry</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arisa_K/pseuds/Arisa_K'>Arisa_K</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997), Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, F/M, Final Fantasy Vii game, Post-Advent Children (Compilation of FFVII), Post-Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Romance, Sex, Sexual Content, Slow Burn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 21:54:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>89,640</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23857144</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arisa_K/pseuds/Arisa_K</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>He made her a one-time offer. She took it. But would that be enough for either of them?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Tifa Lockhart &amp; Cloud Strife, Tifa Lockhart/Reno</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>352</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>249</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Proxy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Proxy</em>
</p><p>It was odd at first, the pair of old adversaries frequenting her establishment, her <em>home</em>.</p><p>After the second event of impending doom of epic proportions was eradicated, life began to settle into a sense of normalcy for everyone. This included those involved with Shinra, who appeared to be less corrupt, seemingly inclined to atone for sins of the past as they no longer took on an intonation of domination, something about setting things right. After all, had they not been the primary source of the Planets' slow demise, it was possible the events as they knew them may have never come to pass. But there were many cooks in the kitchen during that time, and the blame couldn't be laid upon any solitary figure. All one could do was move forward.</p><p>Tifa Lockhart was skeptical.</p><p>They didn't sit at the bar but took to a corner table furthest from the door, content in being away from the other patrons and keeping an eye on anything or anyone that could be out of favor. Turks still weren't looked upon fondly, although their role in the most recent near disaster softened some public opinion, so she supposed they wanted to pay mind to any surprises that could be launched in their direction.</p><p>Rude had approached the bar during their first visit shortly after the dust had settled. The order was simple; Whiskey on the rocks and a Cosmo brew. They were committed to memory as they would be repeated for visits to come. And the Turk wasn't much for small talk, so it was easy enough for her to provide the request and move on. It was difficult to tell what he was thinking, what with his shades always covering his eyes despite how dim the lighting. Blessed with cat vision due to Mako exposure perhaps? She didn't have the nerve to ask.</p><p>While life as a whole was improving for the majority of the population with the extinction of Geostigma, things with the family hadn't fully resolved. Cloud Strife, for a short time, seemed to be on the mend, more open to embracing his makeshift family and all the trials and tribulations that came with it. He was present, at least in person, but mentally he remained mostly unavailable. Despite her best efforts, Tifa continued to struggle to reach him. Never one to push too hard, she kept a careful distance, waiting for the walls to finally lower on their own and completely let them in. She must have patience - and of that there would be an ample supply.</p><p>When he was around, Cloud acted as a bouncer of sorts, not that it was required but ultimately appreciated. His appearance alone was enough to temper down the most heated of potential brawls. He in particular was not so thrilled with the presence of Turks, however as the barmaid had explained it to him, they were paying customers and deserved to be provided service like any other. It was clear he didn't like it but was unwilling to challenge it.</p><p>One day, he was gone. He hadn't graced her with a parting word, but rather a small note with little explanation to his whereabouts. <em>'Business calls,'</em> it read, <em>'I'll be back, not sure when. Give the kids my best.'</em> The tears came, but she kept her emotions hidden from the children. There was difficulty in explaining to them that she didn't understand why he couldn't open up to them and accept the good within his existence, to truly be a family. Instead, she told them exactly what the note detailed despite the gnawing doubt of its truth and how she worried he wouldn't return this time. Marlene and Denzel however, so much more resilient than she gave them credit for, took it at face value. If they had their own suspicions, they didn't share them with her.</p><p>While initially unnecessary, Cloud's disappearance left the role of the bouncer unfulfilled thus leaving the void of security. While she was not particularly concerned with the absence of this position, it had become a constant she was used to having as did the other patrons. So when a tussle broke out over a game of darts, it fell out of control faster than she could move to quell the disagreement.</p><p>To her surprise, the duo who silently kept to themselves in their self-designated corner made haste and broke up the altercation without throwing fists of their own. While Reno was quick with his mouth, Rude's simple presence between the two parties had a strange calming effect on the situation. That, or they knew them for who they were, and sparring against the pair could have cost more in medical bills than the game itself. She flashed them a smile of appreciation and gave them a drink on the house.</p><p>When a patron became a bit too handsy, Reno was the first to catch the exchange and make a move to halt the unwelcome advances. With a sly grin and a lowkey threat, the drunk made quick work of his apology and sauntered out of the establishment like a dog with his tail between its legs. Surprised as she was at his act of chivalry, she again thanked him by obliging his thirst, which he accepted without much fanfare. She wagered he was being a good Samaritan for the free alcohol, but good behavior should be rewarded regardless of who was performing the deed.</p><p>After that incident, the duo migrated to the bar counter, becoming unofficial security of sorts when they were there, or at the very least working to maintain the safety of the barmaid from unscrupulous drunkards. It was such a turn of events to Tifa, as she could recall every time they tried to kill her and her friends. She wasn't quite prepared to let that go despite their best efforts at keeping the peace.</p><p>It had been many weeks since the shift in dynamic and the more they were around, the more she learned about them. At first, she didn't engage in their conversations but having been in her line of work for so long, she was able to pick up bits and pieces of discussions without making it obvious to the participants that she was listening in.</p><p>For instance, she learned that Reno thought himself a bit of a Casanova while Rude was much more reserved. There was physical evidence of this when the scarlet-haired Turk had set his eyes on a pair of ladies who presented themselves as open and willing for male attention, dolled up in a provocative fashion with body language to reinforce their intentions. While Reno was keen to swoop in for the kill, Rude was hesitant to participate in the assist. When his partner abandoned him to take on the mission solo, she could feel Rude’s eyes fall upon her in exasperation, the gaze so heavy she felt it through the twin glass barriers. She returned his gaze with a small smile and gentle shrug, which seemed to have communicated <em>'what do you have to lose'</em>. The response to his wordless call for support appeared to have spurred him on, slipping from the bar stool to join his friend for a conquest, not entirely sure he was making the right call. She was curious as to how it would all pan out.</p><p>The following night her curiosity was satiated. Reno was the only one to visit of the normally inseparable pair, seated on his usual stool, his countenance displaying something between annoyance and regret when he divulged the details to her.</p><p>"Man, that chick ended up sloppy drunk. Boyfriend dumped her or something. She was either bitchin’ about how much of a bastard he was or wailing about how much better she shoulda been to him. What a waste of time." He took a great gulp of his beer, "That friend of hers...pretty sure the crying shit was her responsibility, as a friend, ya know? But instead, she and Rude couldn't stop making eyes at each other. Made me sick…"</p><p>She couldn't help but laugh, eyes bright with merriment at the depiction of his fruitless endeavor. Reno shot an irked expression her way but replaced it with a small grin to share her humor at his misfortune. He took it on the chin.</p><p>Rude happened to be with the same woman again that night, and she had a hard time believing his friend was truly angry that he had potentially found a love connection. A relationship may not be that Turk's cup of tea, but courtship was right in Rude's wheelhouse. Reno was certainly the type to take credit for their union should it flourish into something lasting and tangible but until then it seemed he was happy to take solace in the presence of strangers and alcohol.</p><p>That night had spawned a new pattern. Rude decided to put some serious effort into his new affair, and his appearances became few and far between. Reno on the other hand, began to appear somewhat regularly, claiming his typical spot at the bar and his Cosmo brew. On occasion, she would peer over to him from her duties to witness his flirtatious efforts sent here or there to seemingly available women. Sometimes he would score, departing with the lady of choice in tow. When he wasn't so fortunate, it didn't seem to bother him much, returning to his drink as per usual.</p><p>In between it all, she found herself conversing with the man during brief moments of freedom. The conversations hovered around mostly innocent topics as anything else felt a bit too personal for Tifa, and his past was still a difficult subject to reconcile with. However, during one of his more inebriated discussions with her, he was vocal about Shinra's vision to change their image, devoid of an ulterior motive. They were never meant to be some sort of active government entity but having claimed that mantle they wished to pull back the rule of fear and enter a phase of diplomacy and reason with Reeve's heavy influence. As Turks, their role was to assist in these endeavors, with a lot less killing. Actually, there was to be no killing really. The confession certainly had the barmaid curious, but last call prevented her from exploring further.</p><p>There was a part of her that wanted to accept this as true and forgive the past, but there was too much baggage and her heart still stung with the loss of everything Shinra represented. She wasn't certain if there would be a day that she could completely forgive and forget, but this was at least a step in the right direction.</p><p>As time pressed on and with visits almost nightly, Reno dared to make a pass at her a few times. It was innocent in nature, framed as a flirtatious comment in passing to which she'd wave off in jest. Having witnessed his habits, she assumed that he was either bored or was practicing some new material on her. She took it in stride, but within her gut lay a feeling of brief discomfort from the attention. However, much to her surprise, the squeamishness faded with time.</p><p>There were nights that would be tougher than others for various reasons. Some were mentally taxing, others were physically draining. And the cleanup...it would be enough work for at least two people that she somehow managed to do all on her own. One night in especially was both mentally and physically exhausting, and as she watched the remaining patrons disappear through the entrance from where they came, her eyes glazed over as she took in the mess that lay before her--bottles, glasses, puddles everywhere. Someone had mentioned something about a clogged toilet, and only then, with nearly everyone gone was she able to even think about tending to it.</p><p>Reno hadn't yet motioned to leave, and she noted he was watching her silently. There had been a moment that passed between them, one without words. When he had brought himself to his feet to gather discarded bottles to deposit into the garbage, she was stunned.</p><p>He answered her cry for help.</p><p>He winked at her as she stared at him openly. "Looks like you owe me some free drinks for my generous service."</p><p>Thankful for the assistance regardless of who or what he was, Tifa would be sure to follow through with his suggestion of recompense.</p><p>By the time they had completed their task of tidying up the tables and the bar counter - freeing them of glassware, ashes, and pools of spilled alcohol, and without conversation - it had taken half the time it normally would have without his assistance. His kindness astonished her, but as she parted her lips to thank him, he was out the door with not much more than a wave and a 'See ya tomorrow'.</p><p>Reno began to linger past closing hours with more frequency after that, where their conversations slowly became a bit more personal. There were things he disclosed about himself, <em>and others</em>, that she never thought she'd hear from him. In turn, she found herself responding in kind with tidbits of her own. She even felt bold one evening, calling into question his previous actions in relation to Shinra's orders; orders that involved attempting to take her and her companions' lives on more than one occasion.</p><p>If she blinked, she would have missed it. But she caught a glimpse of Reno Sinclair that revealed true remorse. It was fleeting, gone almost as quickly as it came. This didn't come as a surprise; having paid careful attention to the things he did and didn't say to get a better read on his person. She surmised that he held his more tender feelings and emotions close to his chest, loathe to reveal what would leave him most vulnerable. She could respect that, since she wasn't too different from him in that way.</p><p>"Orders were orders, and those orders sucked. But hey, trying to make amends ain't an easy path. Working on it, yo. For what it's worth, and I can only speak for myself; I didn't really wanna kill ya."</p><p>Admitting one's mistake was half the battle and moving forward toward a better you were the rest. While his answer was perhaps not so eloquently stated, she understood him to some degree, and found herself further at ease in his company after it. Her ill feelings toward Shinra continued, perhaps to never fully resolve, but she saw Reno in a different light than she did the organization as a whole. He was but a cog in the machine, yet a mindful cog that was clearly unhappy with his choices and direction they may have turned him. It would explain his tendency to stick around after  she closed for the night and took the time to help her every now and again; not too much, but just enough to show he wasn't the same guy who followed orders that required dropping a plate on thousands of people. She wondered what he would do now if given such a directive.</p><p>Days later she made a call to Cloud and quickly realized how pointless it was to do so. She didn't know what she expected when she pressed the button on her phone to reach him. Through her near unbreakable optimism when it came to her childhood friend, she had hoped that perhaps he was aware of this day as much as she was; the day they lost everything together. Just maybe, even though he wasn't there physically he could be with her emotionally. A day of shared trauma in which they could siphon some form of comfort from the other in remembrance.</p><p>But he didn't answer. The repetition of the ring sounded in her ear before it fell to voicemail. The outcome was predictable, yet a piece of her still crumbled to dust upon hearing his recorded message. She did not leave one of her own, hanging up and choking back tears instead. Still, she opened the bar without fail, a welcoming smile on her face that never quite reached her eyes as the patrons slowly trickled in. However, anyone who dared look deep enough could see she was slowly coming apart at the seams, and she was doing all she could to bind them back together on her own.</p><hr/><p>There was a time not long ago when Reno could rely on a paycheck from Shinra while immersed in a fast-paced environment where most days weren’t replicas of one another, and all too often he walked away with blood on his hands. But things changed and evolved, as did the organization and the nature of his position. There were days that stunk of the mundane and boring, the chaos lost sometime after the Remnants and Sephiroth were defeated. He wasn't exactly complaining, but how swiftly his existence settled into some kind of normal routine was unnerving.</p><p>Occupying bars in his free time wasn't anything out of the ordinary, nor was picking up women when he felt the desire to occupy his time with undiscovered flesh. He wasn't interested in true connection, finding he didn't have the time nor the desire to make something work. The emotional complexity that came with such an endeavor was more than he cared to wrap his head around. The simplicity of one night stands more than sufficed to satiate the momentary need to shake off stress or fill the void of boredom. He was careful to select those who understood the game, but on occasion one would slip through his vetting process, and he'd find himself blocking a number or two.</p><p>When he and Rude began to take an interest in Seventh Heaven as their new watering hole, their intentions were benign. Drink, get drunk, and go home. There was infrequent conversational banter here and there between them while Reno's roaming eye would scour the establishment for possible candidates to participate in late night activities with, but they would mostly keep to themselves otherwise.</p><p>They had noticed Cloud's presence several times, taking his place as the muscle in the bar. He supposed it was a fitting position but wondered aloud to his buddy how long it would last. Everyone knew the guy to be a wanderer, but whether that was primarily due to the disease that no longer ailed him or not remained to be seen.</p><p>In truth, it didn't take long for Strife to vanish; had Reno placed a bet he would have come away with the jackpot. It wasn't obvious to them at first, but since the majority of the consumers were regulars, waves of gossip filtered through large and small crowds on anything from Mrs. Dozer's missing Siamese to the rev of Fenrir's engine just before dawn, disappearing from the city proper gone far longer than what seemed typical for the delivery man. If that weren't evidence enough, Tifa's response to various inquiries as to his whereabouts were often inconsistent - the lady was a terrible liar.</p><p>Yet no one pushed the issue, and if they were all being honest, no one was surprised by his exodus - except perhaps the childhood friend who should have been most familiar with his habits by then.</p><p>And there was something about the change in her aura after his disappearance that led him and Rude to take a more proactive role in maintaining the bars' neutral energy.</p><p>It started with a brawl over darts. When it came to drunks and gambling, things were sure to go off the rails eventually. Despite the urge to sock it to the men who took defensive swings toward their faces, they managed to talk them off a cliff that would lead to their last moments on Gaia had they resisted in diffusing the situation.</p><p>Tifa took notice, and it earned them bounties of gratitude.</p><p>Other incidents transpired that had him and his partner enter the affairs of various altercations. With their collective skills and a reputation that preceded them, the behavior of the bar responded in kind and quelled into a mostly friendly atmosphere. And with it, they were always thanked with a smile and heavy-handed pours for their efforts.</p><p>Then his partner went and got himself a girlfriend, and he found himself drinking alone most nights. Without his wingman, he began taking an interest in random conversations with the barmaid in between rounds and other calls of duty. He'd take interest in the occasional hunt, but there was something about the randomness of the chase that was losing its appeal. Something just wasn't sitting right about it anymore.</p><p>When the load at the end of the night appeared too burdensome to bear on her own, he found himself sharing it with Lockhart. Of course, Reno did nothing that didn’t benefit him somehow and based on previous gifts of appreciation, he knew he was setting himself up for life.</p><p>He also couldn't keep himself from hitting on her. He did once, twice, more times than he could count. The flutter of laughter that followed his attempts at seduction was uncomfortable to start, but when it became a case of playful repetition, the defenses relaxed and instead the response was an eye roll and a glint of a radiant smile.</p><p>That Strife guy was sure missing out.</p><p>Something was off one evening when he arrived. On the surface, everything appeared as it should; the lighting was faint, the mixed scents of perfumes and colognes, various types of alcohol and nicotine permeated the air, and the dull hum of gossip swelled throughout the bar.</p><p>Tifa was hard at work behind the counter fulfilling requests, shaking and stirring multiple types of cocktails with an ease and fluidity very few could master. The motions came naturally, like a ballerina on a stage. But this ballerina's heart was broken.</p><p>He could see it clearly; irises that normally glistened with tender care lacked a warmth he'd come to know and looked forward to. She masked the despair he'd come close to witnessing once before; while scolding a forlorn Cloud many months ago, when he was ready to give up and die. He didn’t enjoy seeing it a second time.</p><p>Reno didn't speak to her outside of a casual greeting as he took his place at the counter that night, keeping a watchful eye upon her instead. It wasn't the time for witty banter or flirtatious musings - she wouldn't have been receptive or even worse, they might have pissed her right off. Alternatively, he took a much cooler approach, ordering his drinks with little fanfare, making certain he didn't call for her attention when she appeared to be overwhelmed. The last thing she needed was for him to add to the chaos.</p><p>A light-haired woman with bright green eyes, oozing with intent aimed to capture his attention. In rare form, he ignored her, content enough to listen in on wistful conversation and stay within the barmaids' proximity. And she barely noticed him - she had to have been 100 miles away.</p><p>He'd wait until after hours, when her guard was down and wasn’t overrun with responsibilities. He also didn't quite know what he would say or do, but for some reason, he felt he should be there.</p><p>But why?</p><p>At that point, he had no answer.</p><p>The time had ticked by, but once the last of her customers vanished into the streets beyond the bar, he was free to probe her as he pleased.</p><p>"So where have you been all night?"</p><p>The question roused her from her mindless washing, hands falling still beneath the running water. "Hm?"</p><p>A cigarette hung between his lips as he cupped his chin lazily to watch her administer her cleaning routine. The night boiled down to a steady simmer, so he wasn't inclined to make rounds to assist. "I said, where have you been? You haven't been in the bar, that's for sure."</p><p>With the shake of her head, she turned off the faucet and grabbed a dry cloth while turning to face him. She tried to flash him a casual smile, but it just looked forced. "That's silly. You've been watching me all night."</p><p>An eye roll before a slow drag and an exhale. So she noticed. "Come on now. You're talking to someone who's not only adept at combat but also psychology 101. Jack of all trades, yo."</p><p>She snorted at the retort, wiping down a glass spotted with water droplets from her wash and setting it neatly in the rack to the side of the sink. "Are you offering me therapy?"</p><p>He laughed heartily, pulling the cigarette from his mouth and tapping the ashes away into the tray before snuffing it out entirely. "I guarantee you couldn't afford me." He teased with gentle whimsy. It caused her features to soften just a touch. "But seriously, somethings' been buggin' ya all night. This inquiring mind wants to know."</p><p>A sigh escaped her lips, her countenance seemingly haunted in remembrance, "Was it that obvious?"</p><p>Reno regarded her calmly for a time before returning to his beer for a swig. "Nah, not that obvious to the untrained eye. Besides - your regulars - they come here to forget about their own woes, to have a good time. If their bartender is mopey, they'll ignore it unless they're tryin' to get lucky with the staff."</p><p>"And what does that say about you right now?" she asked with the rise of an inquisitive brow. Must have been an attempt, half-hearted at best, to redirect the line of questioning.</p><p>His sly grin in response told her he was too focused to be deterred. "Well, I wouldn't say no to you if you were so inclined to ask me nicely, but not really my intention this time. Come on, spill."</p><p>A pensive look took over her features. "It's nothing, really."</p><p>He continued to silently watch her as she lost herself again to the task at hand. He wasn't satisfied. "It's not that Strife guy, is it?"</p><p>A sudden chill in the air caused Reno's hair to stand on end. Tifa froze, her eyes locked to the floor in avoidance. The truth was within those wine-colored orbs, and she couldn't bear to let him see it.</p><p>"Ya know...you waste your time really." Before he gave her a chance to throw some glassware at his skull, he continued. "He's been through a lot; you'll probably see him come and go, in and out of your life for the rest of yours or his. You prepared for that?"</p><p>He was sure it had to have occurred to her that this could be the new normal. Ultimately, Cloud could be incapable of remaining in one place for extended periods of time, ill-equipped to accept his reality and would mend ties only to come back and sever them all over again. Rinse and repeat - a maddening cycle to be part of.</p><p>She sighed again, her brows furrowed brows in thought as she placed the cloth upon the counter as she turned to finally gaze at her late-night patron. "It's not so much that." Their comfort level had expanded greatly, yet he figured she wasn't one to openly air her dirty laundry, even to her closest friends, hence why she was a ticking time bomb of emotions. Being the face of hope and optimism within her family, anything less could set everything off balance. At the end of the day, she would end up picking up the pieces anyway so why add to the broken shards.</p><p>The mess only got messier.</p><p>He looked upon her kindly, patiently. She didn't say he was wrong, which was a little disconcerting. Sometimes he hated being right and knowing that she persistently pined for a shell of a man was disheartening. She could do so much better. Yet it wasn't his place and offering words of negative candor despite how honest they may be was bound to put him out of favor. So, he was cautious. "Care to elaborate?"</p><p>Pursed lips and heavy-lidded eyes told him she was considering. There was visible trepidation on her end, and in all honesty, he didn't blame her one bit. Their owner-customer relationship changed dramatically from shadow dweller to borderline comrade, but just how friendly had yet to be determined.</p><p>But she surprised him. "Today was a sort of anniversary. The day Nibelheim…" it looked as if she nearly choked on the remainder of the confession and fell silent.</p><p>"Ah," Reno was quick to recognize the trauma such an event would bring, and suddenly he regretted inquiring entirely. "Sorry. I didn't know." <em>Obviously</em>.</p><p>"It's okay." The words left her in a breathless whisper. It required a moment or two of concentrated effort to regain herself. "I called him. Cloud."</p><p>Oh. He wasn't completely off the mark, then. "Lemme guess. No answer?" She nodded in reply, her arms folding across her body which looked more like an attempt to console herself. "Did it ring?"</p><p>"It did."</p><p>"Well it sounds like he's charging his phone. At least he's alive. Small blessings, yeah?" The mood had shifted to something very dark, and very melancholy. He didn't like it one bit.</p><p>To Tifa's credit, she appeared to be shaking herself out of her wistful reverie, erecting her posture and forcing a small smile. "You're right. He's fine. Dealing with it in his own way."</p><p>He couldn't help but be impressed as he witnessed her transformation, successfully stuffing all of the hurt, the suffering into a box and closing the lid. "Uh huh." He tapped his finger against the side of his beer thoughtfully, "And how are you dealing with it?"</p><p>It was easy to read her in that moment; tense and reflective. He already knew the answer, that she was ignoring her problems, her feelings and leaping headfirst into anything that would numb the grief, but always with the pretense of obligation. "Just fine, really," the flash of a wince convinced him she didn't even believe herself. "I have the bar, the kids...plenty to focus on."</p><p>"I think you're fibbing…" he stated, playfully accusatory. He could tell she was becoming uncomfortable, her hands wringing the cloth in her possession over and over. "You just listed a bunch of stuff you <em>had </em>to do. What about things you <em>want</em> to do?"</p><p>She frowned at him, "What are you talking about? I... want to do those things. That's why I do them."</p><p>"Tsk tsk, Lockhart. Someone doesn't know how to let loose." It was quite curious to him how reluctant she was in finding the time to reduce the emotional strain and instead stick her head neck deep into work. It was not something he found very liberating and had serious doubts she did either. "You're a good woman and all, trying to keep your family together, but you sure know how to sacrifice your own wellbeing."</p><p>His words appeared to hit her hard, a faint flush coming to her cheeks. He took this moment of silence to truly take her in - how her signature white top was lightly stained with small splashes of what looked to be a variety of different liquors. Her hair flowed freely, keeping to her slightly shorter cut, loose strands brushing against flushed skin. Her eyes glistened in thought, focusing on whatever excuse she was to come up with next. Even at her worst, she was a sight to behold, and his mind began to drift into dangerous territory. "Can you remember the last time you did something for yourself and really...enjoyed it?"</p><p>As her teeth came down on her bottom lip, he quickly checked himself from making a move that could have set everything off kilter. "I actually can't, Reno," she stated softly. "How crazy is that? Living my life, going through the motions to help everyone else..." she trailed off, her voice slightly fragile in admission.</p><p>As much as he wanted to make her realize the error of her ways, he also wasn't looking to start a pity party for her either.</p><p>Shifting in his stool, he peered into her face, "Hey now, it's commendable, not gonna lie. A pretty good character trait to have. But you gotta do something to balance that out. Something like, fulfilling <em>your needs</em>." The wink and undertone was heavily suggestive.</p><p>"Oh stop it." She snapped the towel at his hands as she rounded the counter to tend to the tables cluttered with abandoned glasses and bottles.</p><p>The subtle shift to amusement inspired him.</p><p>Reno turned, watching her intently as he lazily propped his elbows at the corner of the counter and leaned back with an air of confidence, "Stop what? Stop telling you to enjoy your life? To find <em>pleasure</em> in something? I would know."</p><p>She didn't answer, gathering abandoned bottles from tables. He wasn't sure if she wasn’t listening or actively evading his questioning.</p><p>He wasn't dissuaded in the slightest by her natural defenses or her attempts to avoid the endless probing. "Come on, don't go slinking away in your 'duties'." He provided air quotes for emphasis,  "There's nothing wrong with a little pleasure, satisfaction…"</p><p>Tifa's face must have been burning, the color nearly matching the mop on his head. "I didn't say there was..." her response was weak, almost a whisper.</p><p>There was a spark that lit in his blue eyes, an impish grin spreading across his face. There was delight in the chase once again. "You know, Tifa, I give you a lot of credit. Being selfless, giving people second, third, fourth chances. Hell, look at us? I'd say we're almost friends." She never stopped moving, but she slowed considerably. "And since I'm your friend, I think my opinion regarding your wellbeing is quite valuable, wouldn't you agree?"</p><p>There was no immediate response, and he didn't expect one. But he did wonder if she viewed their budding relationship the same way. They had certainly spent much more time together within the past several weeks, even more than he had with his partner. Yet it may have also been a difficult thing to admit to herself, given their complicated history.</p><p>When she finally did answer, it was not quite what he was expecting. "So...what do you think I should do?"</p><p>He grinned from ear to ear. "Well, funny you should ask. Like I said before, I'm quite adept at combat and psychology. Also turns out I'm quite masterful at helping women forget about their troubles with a very <em>hands on</em> approach."</p><p>A bottle crashed to the floor, shattering over the planked flooring. The shards missed her skin, but her red boots glinted with the fragments. As she cursed under her breath, he stayed his tongue to keep from teasing her.</p><p>Silence suddenly befell them as she moved toward the bar, Reno assumed with intentions in retrieving cleaning supplies to take care of the mess she'd made. And with her coming so close to his person, he would have been remiss to allow the opportunity to pass him by.</p><p>His hand shot out to grab her wrist and with a sharp tug he pulled her in, suddenly standing in between his open legs. She gasped, but she didn't make a move to escape him.</p><p>“What do you think you're doing?" The question was weak with a hint of contention. With her strength, she could have easily broken free but didn’t. Yet, there was still some resistance to pull from the binds that held her, of the dam before the flood.</p><p>Reno would make it crumble.</p><p>He straightened, tilting his head ever so slightly as he stared into her eyes. They spoke of deep sorrow, hesitation, and perhaps even a bit of curiosity. "I guess you know where I'm going with this." His other hand motioned to gently caress her free one, fingertips gradually trailing up her silken arm to rest delicately at her elbow. She was warm to the touch, and his primal instincts flipped on like a switch. He deeply inhaled the scent of her; a field of jasmines on a spring day. "You can do what you want with me, or I you, and we can go back to being friends...tomorrow."</p><p>In previous moments of seduction, there had already been a subtle hint of reciprocation from his conquest in the form of a wink, a purposeful bend at the waist, or something equally tantalizing. He pursued uncharted waters just then and did not want to give the appearance of force, though he admitted to a bit of manipulation.</p><p>The grip on her wrist and arm remained loose, allowing her to retreat any time she wished. His eyes were locked on her own, completely open with his own feelings of rising intrigue. The way he looked at her, like an animal on the hunt, awaiting the prime moment of vulnerability to strike, should have had her running.</p><p>To his surprise, their shared gaze remained uninterrupted. There was something bubbling beneath the surface that he had yet to reach. He was close.</p><p>Her silence spurred him on, as did her rise in temperature. Carefully moving his hands to her waist, he pulled her a bit closer still. She didn't resist.</p><p>"Just one night," he breathed into her ear, no longer holding back his intentions. The battle for self-control was nearly at an end. "Be selfish."</p><p>Tifa's body began to tremble and he couldn't detect whether from apprehension or longing. When she lifted her hands to place them at the bend of his arms, he thought she might push him away. Yet, the grip tightly fastened, appearing to steady herself before her body collapsed from under her. Almost there.</p><p>Her voice cracked when she finally found it, small and fragile. "I thought you weren't trying to get lucky with the staff…"</p><p>"Things can change in the blink of an eye. Besides…" his mouth was so close to her ear, nuzzling his lips through the strands that shielded their rosy hue, "How could I turn away a friend in need?"</p><p>The anxious sigh that escaped her lips was barely audible. The signals were there in terms of her more physical responses, but her words, or lack thereof, left him with doubt. Any misstep on his part could ruin everything; the choice had to be hers explicitly. Her inability to openly express her needs was challenging and he realized he had to come up with a way that would allow her to, without any ambiguity, spell out exactly what she wanted, whether it was for him to leave her be or take part in his offerings.</p><p>"Reno…" his name but a breathless whisper on her tongue. He became incredibly aware how tight and warm his suit was becoming.</p><p>"You're torn." Slowly he removed a hand from her waist, the grip she held to his arm releasing. She remained still as if hypnotized by their close proximity, awaiting his next move. "Should I, shouldn't I? While you might not be so good at telling people how you feel, what you want, you definitely don't hesitate to communicate what you don't want. And I'm convinced that maybe...you <em>do</em> want."</p><p>Taking her hand, he guided the palm between his open legs and rested it against the very thing that plainly communicated just what <em>he</em> wanted. Her eyes widened, but the haze of equal yearning was unmistakable.</p><p>"So here's what I'll tell ya. One little, teeny tiny squeeze tells me you want this. That I can be your proxy - anything you want, you'll get. One night." His body responded strongly to her touch, and control was waning significantly. It was a risky move - and he'd either lose his manhood or reap the rewards the gamble brought. "Or, you can just...walk away, and I'll leave. No harm, no foul." His hand left hers, rising to brush battle worn fingertips against her cheek. "What will it be, Ms. Lockhart?"</p><p>The seconds that ticked away felt eternal. There wasn't a time in recent memory where Reno found himself waiting with bated breath for an answer to anything. He felt his skin tingle with anticipation, waiting for the stunning if not slightly damaged Tifa Lockhart to give in, or let go.</p><p>Her response filled him with an explosive heat that seeped through his pores, a slick veil of perspiration covering his skin and dampening the clothes that held him.</p><p>Tifa gently tightened her grip, a thumb caressing the fabric that stood in the way of his flesh. Her voice was like a song. "Just one night, then..."</p><p>"Atta girl." The dam fell away, and he pounced his prey. Without pause or hesitation, Reno brought himself to his feet and crushed her body, supple and sleek, against him as he brought his lips to take her mouth. He battled his urges, restraining himself from instant gratification. He offered to do as she wished - and he would deliver.</p><p>She kissed him back with matching fervor, and he surmised she allowed her mental restraints to finally fall away and embrace what he had been encouraging her to do all night - be selfish.</p><p>Fingers dug into his hair and held fast. The solid urgency in her grip was difficult to ignore, and it further spurred him on to become more adventurous with discovery. His hands eagerly slipped up her sides and beneath her top, taking precious moments to appreciate the taunt flesh and muscle courtesy of her training. He was graced with a small, muffled moan and was anxious to hear it on repeat.</p><p>Before he had an opportunity to do much else, she broke away from his lips. "Chair," she said breathlessly, "sit down."</p><p>That familiar impish grin appeared on his visage, breaking away from her to oblige. "Yes, ma'am." The wheels in his head began to turn, taking to her direction dutifully. He was intrigued, assuming he would be taking the reins of this tryst, yet suddenly Lockhart found her voice and sought control. The vessel of his arousal responded in kind.</p><p>Stepping over broken glass, he took to a chair not yet upturned from the closing of the night. As he sat, he removed his navy blazer and tossed it aimlessly away. Before much else could be discarded, Tifa stopped him, hands at his shoulders. She leaned over him, and he didn't waste the opportunity to bury his face into her neck, gently nipping while she shuddered from his advances.</p><p>"I want you to keep your clothes on." When he pulled back to regard her curiously, she had already begun to remove her undergarment from beneath her skirt.</p><p>This he didn’t expect. Perhaps she felt with this being a one-night occurrence, it should lack intimacy and simply delve into the rawest pleasures one could obtain. It wasn't an uncommon practice; he just didn't expect it from <em>her.</em> He was caught off guard, so much so that he only took notice that she was unzipping his pants when she was halfway done. "Tifa, you don't have to - "</p><p>"You said you would be my proxy, right?" She inquired seriously, yet her eyes were lit with need. She left him speechless.</p><p>With a small smile, she pulled him free.</p><p>When she mounted him, it was almost a clumsy effort. Her sharp cry of pleasure broke him from his silent daze as did her hips, rolling and grinding to take him in. Lacing an arm around her back, he planted a firm hand to her hip to guide her. When they found their rhythm, the familiar cues of verbal ecstasy began to fill the space.</p><p>The pressure continued to build, the fabric of their clothing chafing against their bodies with the motion. With Tifa's hands clasping to the back of the chair and taking charge, Reno found he couldn't keep his hands still. Clutching at each piece of her he could manage while maintaining their erotic cadence, daring to press his lips to the exposed flesh of her collarbone and taste what he'd only fantasized about. Her sighs of encouragement kept him moving toward her chest, placing tender, hungry kisses as she arched her back to accept them.</p><p>It was all coming to a thundering conclusion. Her moans became more urgent, reaching a higher frequency, which in turn drove Reno closer to his crescendo. And when it all came to an end, he hadn't expected to hear that name.</p><p>
  <em>Cloud.</em>
</p><p>Tifa convulsed into a series of tremors, clutching him as she rode the waves of pleasure. His release didn’t match, the other man's name deflating the buildup he had climbed toward, tumbling back before he reached the peak. But he held her still, until the throes of her passion dissipated, and the inevitable awkwardness formulated.</p><p>She slowly disentangled herself from him, pulling herself free of his arms and standing to her feet. The motion was anything but fluid, resembling something of a newborn doe, but he avoided playfully patronizing her as he put himself together and zipped his trousers.</p><p>"Was I right?" Reno mused, attempting to lessen any discomfort that began to take shape.</p><p>The look she gave him was nervous, much more than just awkward. Was she aware she called out another mans' name? He didn't really want to ask. "Yeah, I think so. Sorry for…" her eyes averted to the floor, searching, "not being so experienced."</p><p>Reno shrugged it off as he scooped up his blazer, "Definitely not the worst I've had." He immediately backtracked, "Eh...it was good, really." He hated this part so much.</p><p>The pause between them was loaded, delicate. It was as if the air between them was made of crystal and one wrong word would cause it to shatter between them.</p><p>He was the more daring of the two. "Still friends?"</p><p>A small smile, one that reached her eyes, "Still friends."</p><p>"Alright then." He shrugged on his blazer, casting a final glance to the woman he openly allowed to use him. "See ya tomorrow, Lockhart." He then turned on his heel to leave the bar, to leave her.</p><p>When he closed the door behind him, he took a deep inhale of the crisp night air Edge had to offer before pulling a cigarette from his pocket. He played back the events of that night as flicked the lighter, catching the end of his smoke with its concentrated flame. He was bothered, more than he should have been, but he couldn't put his finger on why. Perhaps he wasn't entirely satisfied. Perhaps he should have pushed for a bit more control.</p><p>Perhaps he was bothered she envisioned Strife as she fucked him.</p><p>If anything, he was at fault. He opened the door to their affair, laid out the rules, and she followed them to the letter. He should be proud of her.</p><p>Yet, he wasn't.</p><p>But why?</p><p>He still had no answer.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Forgiven</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Forgiven</em>
</p><p>It played like a broken record.</p><p>Once Reno left her, Tifa retreated to her room in a stupor. The realization dawned on her after slipping between the sheets, hitting like a freight train to deliver a mixture of restlessness and marvel. Sleep mostly evaded her as the night’s events kept her wide awake, the rapid pace of her heart resistant in returning to its steady thrum.</p><p>When the morning sunlight slipped through her bedroom blinds, she attempted to place the picture on pause—she would have to relish in the memory another time.</p><p>Unfortunately, her mind had other ideas; returning to the moment when his warm breath clawed against her skin and his lips claimed her own. How all of her defenses collapsed at the taste of him, and how she eagerly consummated his offer.</p><p>She was aware of the additional consciousness that invaded her senses throughout the union; a mental ghost she tried to forget. Instead of blocking him out entirely, she interwove him into the liaison and created a point in time where she had exactly what she wanted, even if it was only part pretend. It hadn’t been her immediate intention when she accepted his offer, to fuse the lost object of her affections with him, but its manifestation she inevitably embraced.</p><p>Descending the stairs and stepping into the bar, she noticed the broken glass first, retracing her footsteps to the supply closet, recalling it as her last destination before she was intercepted. A chill slithered along her spine in remembrance as she made haste of her work, collecting the shards into a dustpan.</p><p>Her mind trailed from one image to the next, much like the fragments splayed out before her. The task was finished in a sort of haze, moving on from the floor to the countertop as per her regular routine. Guiding one of the chairs into its designated table, she envisioned them there; two bodies melding together in union, joined by their mutual appetence. Her hands trembled as she pushed in the rest.</p><p>Concentration was utterly decimated. She stared into the open air as her body responded to the visions, a spark of an electric current surged unimpeded as she traveled back in time. She wanted to lose herself in that lustful revelry all over again.</p><p>Giggling voices and playful footsteps sounding down the steps forced her to shake out of her contemplative trance. Pushing her most recent memories into the corners of her mind, she proceeded to make breakfast in anticipation of Marlene and Denzel’s growling stomachs and a visitor to greet them all.</p><p>It was Barret Wallace that would arrive that afternoon, gracing the home with his larger than life presence. His continued work with the World Regenesis Organization (WRO) kept him particularly occupied for long stretches of time. With his hands directly in the weeds in locating additional energy fields, his work for the people and the Planet was a never-ending obligation. It was probable his need for repentance for his own troubled past would never relinquish its hold over him, and he would continue to lose precious time with his loved ones—the greater good was always calling to him.</p><p>He was dearly missed by them all, Marlene especially, and his appearance was due to rectify that.</p><p>The man always brought a levity that she hadn’t noticed was missing until he returned. The laughter, the smiles, the swearing all culminating into a welcome ambiance of family that nearly made her weep with joy. The children's attention was solidly engrossed with him and his grand tales around the Planet while Tifa tended to other household affairs. He held a surprising amount of patience for Denzel’s one hundred and one questions and Marlene’s incessant correction of his grammar and admonishment of his swearing and both were all too excited about their trip.</p><p>A four day weekend was hard to come by for Barret, but with additional hires and a bit of forward planning, he secured the rare opportunity and took advantage of it. And he couldn't think of anything better than sand, sun, and family. Tifa was typically against the children missing unnecessary school days, but given the circumstance, she simply couldn't argue. However, she opted to stay behind despite the persistent requests to close the bar and head to Costa Del Sol with them. While she loved Marlene and Denzel like her own, essentially being their sole caretaker was taking its toll. She would be grateful for the break and was looking forward to being alone for a change.</p><p>Evening fell before Tifa would open the bar to the public, keeping it closed through the afternoon to spend some quality time with the trio before they would depart the following day. While it was likely on his mind and on the tip of children’s tongues, no one brought up the elephant in the room during their time together. She preferred it that way.</p><p>It wasn't long before Reno trekked through the door behind Rude. They claimed their familiar stools and she served them their normal drinks as pleasantries were exchanged. On the outside, all appeared <em>normal.</em></p><p>It became impossible to suppress the emphatic hammer of her heart between her ears, obnoxious and deafening, as her nerves sought steady ground. While the events of the evening prior were left unmentioned, she felt a shift in the air between them. Something changed.</p><p>Perhaps it was her imagination.</p><p>Reno presented himself as somewhat of a substitute for her pleasures and desires, and she rode them out like a wave from the ocean that all but drowned her in its vastness. Taking part in the act was beyond any behavioral trajectory she could have foreseen, having so thoughtlessly fallen for the charismatic charms of a self-professed ladies’ man. Yet, despite her colorful accusations, it would be a lie to say she hadn't wanted it...wanted <em>him</em>. Now that the deed was done, her vision of him was no longer so clear, seeing him differently, and it left her extremely conflicted.</p><p>And there was of course, the other matter.</p><p>For years, perhaps a decade, her attention had been fixated upon her childhood friend; the spiky haired ex-Soldier who promised way back when that he would save her, be her hero. The childhood promise was essentially fulfilled many times over, and she also had her fair share of saving him in turn. But with time came growth and maturity, and with that maturity came a change in priorities. As fantasies from this young impressionable girl became tainted by reality over time, so did her vision of companionship. She just couldn’t rely on him to ‘save’ her anymore. She wondered if maybe the Turk was right, that she was indeed wasting her time on a roamer.</p><p>The projection infinitely looped on of their tryst, recurrent and consistent in her purview as she tended to patrons, cleared and cleaned the bar and tables while simultaneously engaging in small talk with those who needed a friend. She wasn’t sure if she was subconsciously avoiding the Turk duo, but Tifa found herself stuck between avoidance and intense observation.</p><p>When Reno nearly caught her less than cautious stare, she abruptly broke her gaze to focus on something else, <em>anything</em> else to distract her. Color rushed from her neck to her ears, recalling the searing heat of their intimacy. Two consciousnesses joined together, she took him until the flames had all but scorched her raw and the release from years of sexual tension burst forth like a firestorm. But the conclusion of their one-night romance was not without some lingering guilt and regret.</p><p>There was a peculiar feeling of remorse in the aftermath that intensified when she saw him, wondering how he must have felt to hear another mans' name. However, he was her proxy, right? The vessel to do what she would with him, and it was in this that allowed some fragment of justification.</p><p>Still…it just didn’t feel right.</p><p>Tifa worried she may have been overthinking it all. It was one night; no strings, no binds. Just two people, two friends, sharing a moment of carnal pleasure. <em>Be selfish.</em></p><p>The mantra didn’t come easy and convincing herself ‘that’s all there was to it,’ wasn’t either. She felt terribly confused and anxious from it all—as if that were anything new.</p><p>The creak of the stairs alerted her to Barret’s arrival from above. He descended the stairs with a grin; time with the children always lifted his spirits.</p><p>Those spirits crashed once he set his sights on the Turks.</p><p>They turned their gaze to him with cool regard as the air grew thick with tension. She held her breath as the scene unfolded, hesitant to intervene as all roads would likely lead to conflict.</p><p>There seemed to have been an unspoken agreement between them, however. Without contention, the pair collected their drinks and occupied their old corner table, their backs to the walls as a silent precaution.</p><p>Tifa felt a lump in her throat as Barret claimed the spot Rude had vacated, like a dog marking its territory. Like Cloud, he was unhappy with their company but was quite a bit more physically and verbally candid about it.</p><p>She placed an Edge Elixir in front of him, waiting for the pressure around him to dissolve into a less oppressive aura.</p><p>A few minutes passed before Barret spoke up, predictable and dripping with venom. “Them Shinra cronies still show up here? I swear to God and all that is Holy, if one of those mother fuckin’ Turks’ sneezes wrong, I’m takin’ Big Bertha outta retirement and unloading a full belt into each one of their no good Shinra asses.”</p><p>She further tensed at his hostility toward the gentlemen, shaking her head in disapproval. She did all that she could to keep her line of vision from trailing in their direction. “I don’t want you shooting up anyone in my bar, Barret.”</p><p>“Come on, Tifa.” He leaned forward, his thick baritone dropping something akin to a whisper as a dour smirk spread across his mouth. “Jus’ say the word, and I’ll send ‘em back to the swamp from where they spawned.”</p><p>A sigh of exasperation escaped her as she leaned in to follow suit, keeping their conversation hushed. “People can change, you know. They have been rather helpful in settling some of the disputes when things get a little out of hand here.” Among <em>other </em>things.</p><p>Barret scoffed, seemingly unimpressed by the information. “They must have some ulterior motive. People don't change, Tifa. Least of all Shinra rats.”</p><p>“Reeve was in Shinra,” she countered, “and you're working with him. He technically double crossed us using Cait Sith as his tool. So, isn't it possible that they saw the light too?”</p><p>“He didn’t exactly try to kill us all,” he hissed, nostrils flaring.</p><p>“Maybe not directly. But the Turks…they did aid in the Meteorfall evacuations of the Midgar Sectors, and they helped with the Remnants, Sephiroth. With Geostigma,” she reasoned. “Maybe we should give them a chance to prove that they mean to really change things?”</p><p>The irony wasn’t lost on her. As someone who had lost so much from the Shinra Electric Power Company, there she was defending its employees, former and current. There was a time that she would have been just as reluctant as her friend to accept the potential change of heart but given her consistent exposure with some of its prominent members, it was impossible not to shift her perspective. And if she were ready to admit it, a little something else triggered her defense. But of course, she wasn’t keen on facing that truth just yet.</p><p>He bristled at her words, frustration clearly displayed within his brown eyes and his rigid frame. After several moments of what seemed to be careful reflection and consideration, his argument visibly deflated, his shoulders relaxing as he glared at the beer in front of him. “Shit...maybe. But I still don't trust 'em.”</p><p>“Just like I told Cloud,” she briefly noticed the pain in her chest wasn't much more than a dull throb that passed as quickly as it came. She also noticed Barret's attention shift to her, as if waiting for something to break with the mention of the name, “they are paying customers who have given no reason for me to refuse their service. They are also frequent visitors...it's good for business.”</p><p>He waved his metallic hand dismissively, nursing his beer in defeat, “Okay, okay! I get it—but I'm watching them; and you should too.”</p><p>A smile. “I definitely am.”</p><p>As their exchange came to an end, Tifa suddenly felt as if her skin were burning to cinders. She pulled back from her friend and slowly turned her gaze toward the Turks. As engaged as they appeared to be in their own private discussion, she could have sworn she'd felt the heat of hisgaze only moments ago.</p><p>A silly bit of wishful thinking she reasoned, even as she found her own gaze lingering a touch too long in his direction.</p><p>Did he put any thought into what happened last night? Was he so used to his love 'em and leave 'em mentality that their time together was out of his mind after he left her company? Was he angry that she thought of someone else during their time together? She simply didn’t know.</p><p>Maybe it was better that way.</p><p>Barret nearly caught her glazed expression and heavy stare before pulling herself from her anxious inquiries and returned to her work.</p><p>Tending to a small party at the end of the bar, she just barely spied the two Turks making their exit. It was quite unlike the duo to be so abrupt, yet she supposed a farewell was out of the question given that there was an obstacle of a man in the way. Still, a feeling of anxiety pooled at the base of her stomach. She felt foolish as she followed their fleeting figures as the glint of a familiar broken shard of glass caught her eye. Glowering at the fragment, she thought it might be mocking her.</p><p>Try as she might, her habitual fail-safe of ignoring it all was no longer proving effective, the internal mess continuing to accumulate and grow. Still, she drowned herself in her duties—distractions were all she had for now.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Reno always had a bit of a wandering eye, interested in tasting the various flavors the Planet had to offer. They each had their own unique nectar—no two ever the same. His powerful curiosity kept him moving from flower to flower, anxious to sample and savor until he fluttered off and located the beguiling scent of another.</p><p>Tifa Lockhart was his most recent flower, one he didn't think he'd ever get to taste.</p><p>Before this, the allure of random women began to slowly lose its appeal, the chase not quite what it used to be. It was fuzzy, when the thrill of the pursuit began to fade, but it sure as hell agitated the shit out of him. What was once a simple kind of existence was becoming more complex, and Reno sincerely disliked complex situations.</p><p>There was something else that bothered him which he found to be an even greater mystery. It shouldn’t have mattered to him, honestly. It certainly wasn’t the first time <em>that</em> happened. He made a deal with her and she accepted the terms and fulfilled her end of the bargain. He essentially asked for it.</p><p>So what if she called Strife’s name during the height of her ecstasy? Why did that matter so much to him? It shouldn't, but it did; and it was absolutely infuriating. Deliberating why he gave a shit was twisting his mind into a frenzy of monumental perplexity. He couldn’t understand why this time, of <em>all</em> times, it would be so pointedly different than the others.</p><p>He sat through a meeting with his fellow Turks’ while pondering these quandaries.</p><p>Tseng was at the helm of the discussion, providing details of an upcoming rendezvous between Rufus Shinra and Reeve Tuesti. It seemed the intention was to become officially intertwined, some sort of financial negotiation as each organization either sought atonement for past transgressions or moved forward to improve prosperity of the Planet and recover new energy reserves in lieu of Mako. With Shinra money and WRO.’s vision, the two would be a winning combination.</p><p>Focusing was thoroughly impossible for Reno, capturing bits and pieces of the assignment as he found himself turning the events of the previous night over, trapped in a fog of perpetual confusion and distant longing to recreate the endeavor. His conscience was loud and foreboding, bellowing in rare form how unwise such an idea would be. He couldn’t get her attached, it reasoned. The nice ones always fell hard, and he didn’t enjoy their tears of woe any more than he enjoyed kicking a puppy.</p><p>But he had a habit of playing with fire, even if he was bound to be charbroiled to the bone.</p><p>Aside from Presidential guard duty, it would appear not much else would be required of them. The Turks, once a small brigade of assassins, kidnappers, spies, and anything else that Shinra deemed necessary, was not much more than high profile security guards these days. Borderline meaningless and mundane, but it was better than having any more blood on his hands.</p><p>Those hands were stained through and through. It wasn't until he was clearing Sector 4, after the Calamity, had he realized just how complicit he had been. He often looked at his assignments as just a job and suppressed any thoughts of remorse from his mind in case he grew an inconvenient conscience. But despite his best efforts, one formed and grew anyway, making deep roots and expanding beyond his control.</p><p>He wasn't the only one either—Rude was plagued by guilt as well. He could see the reluctance in his stature during some of their past missions and scattered moments of unusual hesitation. Had Meteor not fallen, he wondered if his partner might have broken ties on his own before Rufus realized being a pseudo dictator nearly killed them all, much like his father before him. Try as he might to be a cold hearted bastard, the guy was soft as a cotton ball once the rock hard layers were peeled back far enough.</p><p>Rude asked to join him at Seventh Heaven later that night, and a flutter of doubt had him waver in accepting the request. He still hadn't quite come to terms with what happened between himself and Lockhart, and he wanted to make sure she was alright with the arrangement. It was to be one night, and that's it.</p><p>There was something about his friend's mannerisms that had him reconsider. Something was evidently troubling him, and he was interested to know what. Perhaps he just needed a bro’s night. It could be like old times – before he got himself tethered to a ball and chain.</p><p>It was the first time in a long while Reno felt actual trepidation before setting foot in any establishment, let alone a bar. While he maintained his externally confident bravado as he crossed the threshold of Seventh Heaven, internally he was a bit apprehensive. The feeling was foreign, as was the mild churning in his gut. He allowed Rude to take lead, slipping into their usual spots at the bar.</p><p>It took him but a moment to locate her, his eyes locking on like a magnet. Remaining calm and cool, he flashed an impish grin as he signaled for their usuals. He projected nothing more than his normal, sardonic self and kept his mouth shut when it came to their dalliance from the night before.</p><p>But he couldn't stop thinking about it.</p><p>Could <em>she</em>?</p><p>Having fulfilled their orders, they exchanged brief small talk before she buzzed away to assist other customers. There was nothing in her actions or demeanor to suggest anything was on her mind aside from her current responsibilities. She was too good—and he didn't like that at all.</p><p>Whether it was his ego or something more he wasn't certain, but he knew he was daunted by her ability to seem utterly unfazed by his presence. He expected a shy smile, a twinkle in her eye, <em>something</em>. He thought he saw her looking his way, but as he shifted his attention from his beer to her retreating form, he felt an odd swell of disappointment.</p><p>He should have known, having made it a pastime to observe her as she stuffed all other emotions away while none were the wiser to her grief and sadness. But he knew – he <em>always</em> knew. Yet here she was, successfully concealing any hint of emotion or lust or yearning she might have had for him. Then he remembered.</p><p>She called someone else’s name.</p><p>Why the <em>fuck</em> did that <em>bother</em> him so Goddamn much?</p><p>This wasn't supposed to happen. He was supposed to successfully be detached. Instead, his palms were sweating beneath his fingerless gloves, and he had trouble ignoring her voluptuous figure. Erring on the side of caution, he cast causal yet penetrating glances her way as she moved about; tending to customers with elegance and grace, the hint of smile here and there, a kind word or compliment, sometimes a flirtatious wink, utterly innocuous yet tantalizingly delightful.</p><p>He pulled a smoke and lit the end with steady hands while the restless beat of his heart was throbbing in his skull and the bounce of his leg was indicative of his frustration.</p><p>Maybe he would try to have her once more, to scratch his incessant, exasperating itch. It didn’t matter whose fucking name she called out, that's all it really was after all—an itch.</p><p>
  <em>Wasn't it?</em>
</p><p>“Hey...nine o'clock,” Rude muttered at him.</p><p>In his peripheral, he spotted a familiar man standing not more than a few feet from the pair. As he turned to look at the massive figure—unflinching beneath his murderous glare or the threat of his metallic fist—he caught Tifa's figure stiffen at the sight of him. It was clear by Barret's stature and puffed up chest that they were unwelcome, but they were also aware he had no authority to throw them out. Deep seated hatred wasn’t just cause for their removal and they all knew it.</p><p>Lucky for him, the Turks were capable of compromise.</p><p>Without a word, Reno gripped his cigarette between his lips as they took their drinks and left their favorite stools behind, retreating to the corner table they had at one point grown very fond of.</p><p>They proceeded to sit with their backs to the wall, taking cautionary measures in the event someone got a little testy and went for the sneak attack—not that Barret was very capable of stealth. Regardless, they didn't want any trouble and had a growing reputation of keeping the peace, not spreading disorder. Challenging the Avalanche member was a fools' errand and would most certainly put Reno out of favor with his favorite barmaid.</p><p>A few minutes passed them by, the mood settling into neutrality before the habitually quieter of the two spoke up. "Cassie hates Shinra"</p><p>He hadn't spoken to the girlfriend much outside of their initial meeting, Rude preferring to take his time with his new romance before officially introducing her to the inner circle. He liked to play for keeps. "Gee, so do most of the people in this town. Didn't you figure that shit out before you started banging her?"</p><p>Rude stiffened slightly, taking a drink from his Whiskey. "It's personal with her. We experimented on her brother."</p><p>Of all the things Shinra was responsible for and participated in, the experiments were some of the worst. It left thousands of lives in shambles—the victims and their loved ones' alike. It was an everlasting domino effect. "Oh. I guess that really hits home.” He paused, brow lifting curiously. “Is she leavin' you or something over it?"</p><p>"No. But it got me thinking.” He removed his glasses, rubbing the bridge of his nose in thought. It was a rare sight to see his hazel eyes. “Do you think we can be forgiven?"</p><p>It was clear his friend was troubled, the weight of their past pressing heavily on his shoulders. It was easier to ignore when you didn’t have someone who suffered at their hands, whether directly or indirectly, to go home to. Turks often avoided courtship; getting close to anyone was risky for a plethora of reasons. Reno was witnessing one of them firsthand.</p><p>"She's really done a number on your head, hasn't she?"</p><p>The slight narrowing of Rude’s eyes was enough for him to realize dodging wasn't going to work this time.</p><p>Questions like these made him personally uncomfortable. Acknowledging their misdeeds was bothersome, sometimes painful, and he tried to avoid being stuck in the past. He really didn't want to admit that he often wondered the same thing.</p><p>"Yeah, yeah. I know." He sighed and took a drag from his smoke, the exhale slow and deliberate as he gathered his thoughts. "I don't know. We've done...a lot. Most of it I personally wish I could take back, but we aren't exactly time-travelers. Hojo didn't live long enough to figure out that formula. I don’t really have an answer."</p><p>Silence overtook the table, both lost in their separate contemplation. Reno wondered then, what it truly meant to be forgiven. Is forgiveness being forgiven by those who your actions directly affected? Was being forgiven forgiving yourself? Was it all of the above? Adept in psychology he may have once claimed, but this was one area of expertise he did not excel in nor a subject he traversed often, if ever.</p><p>Rude returned the shades to his face, obscuring his eyes from view once more. "Reeve offered me a job at WRO."</p><p>Reno didn’t disguise his disbelief. “Seriously? I heard through the grapevine that they were on the prowl for new recruits, but I didn't think they would pluck straight from the hand that feeds them, yo. When was this?"</p><p>"Recently,” he answered. “Details aren't worked through."</p><p>“Damn...” Reno whistled, leaning back into his chair, "Rufus is sure getting fucked in this upcoming deal."</p><p>His sights drifted to Tifa, engaged in a seemingly tense conversation with Wallace. Her features were tight, possibly attempting to smooth the discord caused by their arrival.</p><p>Observing intently, he felt his self-control begin to wane as he watched her with interest, recalling just how soft and plush her lips were against his own. His hands twitched with the memory of her skin beneath his palms, smooth and taut. His suit began to chaff at the vision of her body pressed perfectly to his own as she took him, rode him, controlled him.</p><p>Just before she tossed her glance and caught him, he snapped from of his imagination and returned his attention to Rude—who had been observing <em>him</em> the entire time.</p><p>His expression projected indifference, but the beat of his heart increased its tempo.</p><p>"You’d be making a mistake, Reno."</p><p>"<em>Excuse</em> me? Is someone jealous?"</p><p>Rude quirked an inquisitive brow to his partner. "Of?"</p><p>Reno laughed it off, but he nearly showed his hand. Given Rude’s reaction to his hungry stare alone, dropping the bomb of he and Tifa’s shared an <em>experience </em>was out of the question. "Well, you aren't exactly a free man, so there goes your window of opportunity, buddy. I’m fair game."</p><p>He sighed, shaking his head. "Save yourself the trouble. You don't stand a chance, anyway."</p><p>"Strife ain’t here, yo,” Reno said. “That why you never made a pass? Afraid big bad ex-Soldier-not-soldier boy would come and swoop his Princess right from under your nose?"</p><p>For as long as they'd known them, Tifa and Cloud were something of a pair, yet it was difficult to ascertain how official they were. Reno <em>still</em> didn’t know. What he did know, however, was Strife could be off God knows where, and she'd be waiting patiently for his return.</p><p>It bothered him, that dedication she had to him, but like many things over the past several weeks, he wasn’t sure <em>why</em>.</p><p>Rude’s countenance grew pensive. "It’s not Strife, it’s us.” He sighed, “I have no right to touch her...not with what we've done to her."</p><p>The statement struck Reno in a way that he had trouble deciphering. It took residence in his mind, but it was an entity too foreign for him to understand just then.</p><p>A persistent buzz suddenly sounded from the Rude’s coat pocket.</p><p>He pulled the phone free and flipped it open. Reading the text, a rare smile both genuine and tender appeared on his face. He must be in love. “It's Cassie. I've gotta go.” He stood, adjusting his blazer. “Are you staying?”</p><p>Reno spied a glance toward the bar only to see Tifa occupied with a small group at the far end. Another look to the large Avalanche member perched there made his decision for him. "Nah, I think I'll call it an early night."</p><p>Together, they exited the bar, Reno taking lead this time. A cool breeze brushed against his skin, chilling the thin veil of perspiration that layered his skin. The cigarette between his lips flickered in the wind, wisps of milky tendrils coiling and fading into the night air. He looked to his friend, eyes heavy with thought. “Do <em>you</em> think we can be forgiven?"</p><p>Rude responded with a small shrug to his shoulders. "Don’t know. Maybe getting out from under Shinra's thumb could help."</p><p>Reno chuckled, but it was mirthless. Shinra was at one point the face of evil, and they were the men and women who helped carry out some of their most heinous atrocities. He didn't believe leaving Shinra would remove the blood from their hands, forever soaked in sin.</p><p>He thought of Tifa then, how over time she had opened herself to his friendly advances and spoke with him on a level likely reserved for close acquaintances and perhaps even friends. They shared a moment of time he couldn’t shake loose, a one-night affair he apparently wasn't so quick to let go.</p><p>Reno snuffed his cigarette beneath his shoe, grinding it to ash and fiber. "You know...I'm changing my answer. I think we <em>can</em> be forgiven. I don't know what it takes, or how long it takes, but we can. If you can find the love of a woman who suffered at the hands of us, well, anything’s possible.”</p><p>“I'm sure you're right.”</p><p>Reno smirked at his partner. “Ain’t I always?”</p><p>Even with the self-assured declaration, Rude’s earlier admission resounded through his mind like a hollow drum.</p><p>
  <em>I have no right to touch her...not with what we've done to her.</em>
</p><p>It haunted him all the way home.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Alone</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Alone</em>
</p>
<p>For the first time in a long time, Tifa was alone.</p>
<p>Barret and the children left that morning to embark on their coastal adventure. The keys to Cloud’s villa exchanged hands, having received a spare set some time ago and found it silly not to share the property with family. Its owner often forgot it even existed.</p>
<p>Their time together before the inevitable departure was largely uneventful, until an innocent inquiry from Denzel nearly sent her into a downward spiral.</p>
<p>
  <em>Do you think maybe Cloud is there at the Villa?</em>
</p>
<p>She was at loss then, unable to understand herself why his hero found it necessary to venture off. She wondered if somehow she was at fault, that she did something wrong to drive him away again. She couldn’t know – it was difficult to get inside his head, all jumbled, muddled, and locked up like a steel trap. The future looked hopeful for him after Geostigma, but his gradual retreat told a different story, one she was unable to translate. The exodus was a subject rarely broached, but within her own extended misery she failed to see the extent of the damage it might have had on the young boy. She tried to be everything for him, but it wasn’t enough. She hoped one day it would be.</p>
<p>Upon their exit, when she heard the rubber hit the road, the familiar coils of loneliness enclosed around her heart but in normal Tifa Lockhart fashion, she rebuked the emotional cascade that threatened to drown her and deflected her attention elsewhere.</p>
<p>Her mind wandered to the moment just before they left, when Barret introduced the idea of doing something for herself in their absence, to take some <em>me</em> time. It amused her that he was the second man to encourage some sort of self-care – she must have really seemed frayed around the edges.</p>
<p>But what would she do? Read? Deep clean the bar? Organize cabinets? The surface thoughts were laughable, discovering that she had been so engrossed in the normal day to day that she’d driven away any desires or passions she may have been able to manifest and feed because she waited for something, for <em>someone</em>, that may never come. She’d put her life on pause for an apparition.</p>
<p>How long was long enough? When was it okay to move on, to accept that your endless optimism and hope was no longer useful? Limitless support was provided to the wanderer, and he was seemingly allergic to his loved ones. Perhaps the time had finally come for her to take hold and move on with her own life without feeling as though she may be leaving him behind. Guilt – it had no place here anymore.</p>
<p>As a flurry of enthusiasm fluttered to life, she took a ballpoint ink pen and tore a sheet of paper from a notepad by the register. Wheels began to spin in rapid succession, jotting down anything she wanted to do within her lifetime. It didn’t matter how menial or extreme the idea, it was ending up on that list.</p>
<p><em>Surf, paint a portrait, learn the Samba, buy a punching bag, learn to operate a helicopter</em> all made the draft. Even slightly more mundane things like <em>nap</em> and <em>less time overthinking</em> were added. Her smile was bright, feeling a renewed sense of excitement for the future. She’d removed the heavy weight that held her down, and little by little she would move forward with a purpose. They would be brought to life, every single bullet point. She’d make it her new mission.</p>
<p>On a roll, she had included a few additional entries before she stopped cold, slow to realize what she’d done. In delicate, purposeful strokes, she read the name out loud, over and over, echoing off the walls like the soft timbre of a bell:</p>
<p>
  <em>Reno.</em>
</p>
<p>The revelation struck her. Buried within the recesses of her mind was a man she couldn’t quite shake away. His presence, whether in the flesh or dreamscape, encapsulated most minutes and hours she dared to recollect. It was an admission that was frightening and exhilarating all at once. The forbidden fruit that might ruin her should she dare another taste. Was there even a path for this hazardous endeavor? Obstacle upon obstacle, endless reasons why pursuit of any kind was dangerous or futile in probability. The most important query had presented itself then, and she simply didn’t have a solid answer:</p>
<p>What did she <em>really</em> want?</p>
<p>The question she continued to ponder as the bar opened on its nightly hour and found herself glancing down at that list now and then throughout the night, tucked between the counter and register. Her eyes were drawn to one entry alone, the tips of her fingers gingerly brushing the indented print. The name and the man triggered something that had laid dormant. She knew who he was, there was no question about that – the sardonic Turk with a flaming red mane, piercing aqua eyes and a salacious reputation that made her toes curl if she thought too much about it – but that didn’t seem to matter to her anymore.</p>
<p>And where did <em>he</em> stand? Should she dare ask? The thought of doing so all but petrified her, pulse booming to her eardrums. But perhaps there were ways to uncover the mystery indirectly. She wanted to know. She wanted more than just to know. She wanted…</p>
<p>It was late in the night when he arrived, just before close. His typical Turk suit was rather disheveled, more so than normal – it actually looked like he may have slept in it. The sight was a curious one, assuming perhaps it had just been one of those of days. She could certainly relate.</p>
<p>The earlier buzz of the establishment had died down to a whisper, sighting only one other customer across the way that was at the tail-end of his beverage. She couldn’t help but feel the apprehension fill her gut as Reno took his usual stool. The last time they had been together without the buffer of their respective friends was during their intimate interlude. Her eyes fell to the very spot of their liaison and she quivered with the memory.</p>
<p>He took a quick survey of the bar and its lack of clientele before turning to her with tired eyes. “No bodyguard tonight?”</p>
<p>Tifa pressed the chilled Cosmo brew she’d retrieved upon spying his arrival into his awaiting open palm. “No bodyguard. He and the kids are gone for a little while.”</p>
<p>“That so?” he asked, tapping his fingers against the side of the perspiring bottle.</p>
<p>She sensed a distance, and it shook her resolve. Perhaps it was a bad idea to pursue.</p>
<p>It didn’t seem to stop her.</p>
<p>She pressed her palms against the counters’ edge and boosted herself with the tips of her toes, casually leaning forward. She was quite mindful of how she presented herself to him in that moment – the low-cut white top providing ample exposure to her assets, the pressure from her arms accentuating the view. “Three whole days. It’ll be nice to have some time to myself. You know, so I can <em>be selfish.</em>”</p>
<p>This seemed to catch his attention. It flickered to the center of her chest before he caught himself, redirecting his sights to her face. He pointedly avoided her eyes however, staring between them. “Oh yeah? And what are you planning to do with all this time to yourself, Ms. Lockhart?”</p>
<p>Tifa shrugged, tilting her head in mock contemplation. “I don’t really know. Thought maybe you could give me some ideas.”</p>
<p>Whatever coldness that had been present before was beginning to thaw, his face loosening from its neutral countenance and becoming slightly more animated. A twinkle appeared in his eye. “Have a drink with me, after close.”</p>
<p>Butterflies took flight, full of life and flapping away. “I don’t know…”</p>
<p>“Afraid to be alone with me?” his tone was playfully suggestive.</p>
<p>The color rose to her cheeks faster than she could turn to hide it, fiddling with a cloth to wipe down the counter that was already spotless. “Of course not.”</p>
<p>He took another drink, his focus on her remained steadfast. “Then what’s the problem, yo?”</p>
<p>She remembered the list and how not long ago she was determined only to falter in execution. Why was her foot applying the brake already?</p>
<p>Mentally shaking herself from her uncertainty, she returned his gaze, the deep flush of her skin settling to a soft pink tint, “There’s no problem. Let’s do it.”</p>
<p>Reno watched as she closed up shop, addressing the lingering customer that he didn’t have to go home but he couldn’t stay there. With a wobbly shuffle of the visibly inebriated mans’ feet, he left and Tifa locked the door behind him.</p>
<p>His head was an unspeakable mess. The booze he’d consumed earlier hadn’t helped, leaving him tired and drained. His time with Shinra was just another foggy workday filled with paperwork and filing, feeling closer to a desk clerk than anything else. It at least provided a needed distraction since the nightmare began when he returned home.</p>
<p>Within the confinements of his apartment, he ingested copious amounts of alcohol and watched the most lewd and scandalous content he had on hand to alleviate the itch himself. Yet no matter how violently he’d scratched, there was no relief to be found.</p>
<p>Falling in and out of consciousness throughout the night was one of the more pathetic displays of his existence. Lying fully nude on his living room floor, Rude’s words repeated incessantly within his skull and all he wanted to do was wipe his mind clean of the last 48 hours so he couldn’t remember her heart-shaped face or her plush lips or the grip of her thighs around his waist or how a voice in his head was trying to convince him it was all so wrong and toss himself into hell already.</p>
<p>All attempts at talking himself out of visiting Seventh Heaven, to stay in and call up a gal from his little black book to take the edge off, failed. Ultimately, something much more powerful guided and brought him to her. Still unsure as to why these complexities were so overwhelming that he couldn’t just say fuck it and ignore it all, he inevitably succumbed to the glow like a moth to a flame. Knowing he’d burn for it, he threw on his crumpled suit anyway and somehow made the trek in slow-motion blur.</p>
<p>Despite the Siren’s call, part of him still tried to resist, a last-ditch effort to create some sort of detachment between them. It was only <em>supposed</em> to be one night, yet his internal resolve had been floundering from the first time he’d touched her. But of course, she effortlessly destroyed his attempts not so much with her actions, but with her words:</p>
<p>
  <em>Be selfish.</em>
</p>
<p>It felt like a code, and secret call to arms. But he resisted – he had to.</p>
<p>Tifa returned behind the bar, flashing a coy smile his way. The unwelcome twist of his gut told him many things, none of which he was currently equipped to accept. She reached for a bottle of red wine and he called out to her mid-grip. "Hey, wait – let's be a bit adventurous and dive into something stronger. Ain't like you've got anywhere to go. Time to celebrate your temporary freedom." There was a voice in his head commanding him to pump the brakes, that he was about to run himself off the road.</p>
<p>She peered at him, curiosity swirling. “If I didn’t know any better, I would say you’re trying to get me drunk.”</p>
<p>“Can’t get anything passed you, can I?” The impish grin was alive and well on his features in response. “Come on now, let loose a little. You don’t have any kids to take care of, so what’s a little hangover?”</p>
<p>This was dangerous. He was partway to stumblesville himself and his decision-making process was already encumbered. But Reno was nothing if not a risk taker, and he sped right past all warnings his subconscious delivered.</p>
<p>Tifa hesitated before pulling back from the wine and instead retreated to the kitchen. When she emerged, there was a full bottle of liquor in hand, its contents crystal clear. Swiping two shot glasses from the rack as she passed, she rounded the counter and took the stool beside him.</p>
<p>With his slightly blurred vision, he squinted to read the gold and green label. “Cactus Kick? Don’t think I’ve heard of this one.”</p>
<p>“And here I thought you’d be a connoisseur in all things mentally numbing,” she teased, pouring for the two of them.</p>
<p>“I’m a high functioning alcoholic, mind you. Not exactly interested in its regional procurement. You could give me lighter fluid and if it does the trick, I’m in.” She pushed the shot his way and he purposely brushed the length of her fingers with his own as he intercepted. The sharp shiver that transferred from her skin made him grin. “I’m more interested in how much <em>you</em> can handle.”</p>
<p>Tifa reached for her beverage, eyes downcast as to avoid him. That rosy hue was back, and it equally frustrated as much as relieved him that she was holding back. “To be honest, I’m not much of a drinker. Here and there, special occasions, but it’s not really my vice.”</p>
<p>“Like the drug dealer who doesn’t sample their own product,” he snickered. “You’re a pusher.”</p>
<p>A lively smirk splayed over her lips and he felt his heart skip a beat. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said.</p>
<p>“Don’t act so innocent, sweetheart.” He brought the drink to his nose and felt the hair recede into his sinus cavity, “I seem to recall you lived in the Sector 7 Slums for some time. Pretty nefarious stuff was exchanging hands on those streets.”</p>
<p>Her face fell blank, like a washed-out canvas, and he internally scolded himself for bringing up her old home. He was the Turk who carried out the order to destroy it and countless lives. How many was it exactly? He was almost curious enough to find out once, toward the end of the Shinra era when the Calamity almost ended life for everyone. Not one to actively live in the past, he stuck to the bottle and silenced the demons instead.</p>
<p>It was but a moment before the canvas came to life again. A kind smile spread across her visage, almost sympathetic in nature, as she raised her glass to him. “To new beginnings.”</p>
<p>Shoving away the more unpleasant judgments his conscience was pushing to the surface, he threw his head back in tandem with hers and swallowed. His throat burned as the bitter fluid traveled to his stomach where it proceeded to sizzle. “Good Gods, woman. That’s some strong shit, yo.”</p>
<p>She recovered gracefully, much to his surprise. “Cloud received it as a gift for one of his runs.” Her expression was indifferent in explanation. There was something she wasn’t expanding on, but he didn’t press her. He didn’t want to hear about Cloud, anyway. He wanted other things he dared not vocalize or they would become far too real, and he wasn’t prepared for it.</p>
<p>Reno planted his elbow into the counter and laid his chin into his palm. “So... you wanted ideas for things to do, eh?”</p>
<p>A glimmer of remembrance sparkled in her eyes. “Yes, I actually made a list, now that I think about it. Not necessarily things to do in three days, but just…in general.”</p>
<p>His own lit up in interest and curiosity. “Let’s see it.”</p>
<p>She abruptly turned away to conceal whatever may betray her, hands fidgeting as she picked at her nails anxiously. “Oh, I can’t remember what I did with it. But I can tell you some of the things on it.”</p>
<p>“Uh huh.” Suspicion danced, but he settled for pouring them another round with his free hand instead. The about face was a little odd, but he chose to let her off the hook this time, “Please share with the class.”</p>
<p>“Napping,” she mused, accepting the refill. “That might be my favorite one, actually.”</p>
<p>He chuckled. “I do love a good nap. The best ones are in Tseng’s office.”</p>
<p>“Does he have a couch or something?”</p>
<p>“Nah, I just like pissing him off. If you ever wanna make the boss man mad, clear his desk off and sleep on it,” he smirked wryly. She laughed, genuinely and purely. He fought to keep his hands steady as he gazed at her expectantly, lifting his glass to her. “To more naps.”</p>
<p>Following his lead, she clinked her glass with his, downing the shot in a single gulp. The fire water seared his insides, but yet again she appeared to remain unaffected by its sting – it kind of pissed him off.</p>
<p>“Seriously, are you trying to kill me?” He coughed, pounding a hand against his chest.</p>
<p>“Says the guy who said he’d drink lighter fluid,” she winked, a mischievous inflection to her tone.</p>
<p>“Aren’t you a barrel of laughs,” he huffed, moving to pour another. “What else?”</p>
<p>She looked skyward, as if attempting to recall the entries. He couldn’t help but stare at the way her eyelids fluttered when deep in thought or how her lips pouted in her quiet deliberation. “Oh! Learn to fly a helicopter.”</p>
<p>Reno looked at her inquisitively. Something was definitely different. “Where’d this sudden interest come from?”</p>
<p>“You mean...flying a helicopter?” she asked, slightly confused.</p>
<p>“This whole list thing, really. It’s kind of...unusual for you.”</p>
<p>The smile was soft and reflective. “I guess I just want a change. Be my own person.”</p>
<p>“Well, that’s right up my alley, yo.” An enthusiastic grin spread over his face.</p>
<p>She swiveled on him with wide, hopeful eyes. “Oh yeah, you guys flew those things all of the time.”</p>
<p>"And we still do.” He wanted to choke back the words that pranced on his tongue, but his self-control was fading. “Looking to get a ride out of me?”</p>
<p>It took a moment for the innuendo to sink in, and the visible mortification had Tifa fidgeting. Scarlet rushed furiously to her face. “No! I mean…I didn’t...”</p>
<p>He just couldn’t help himself. “Ah settle down. Little do you know it’d be <em>multiple</em> rides, anyway. You can’t learn to fly too fast or ya might find yourself a charred pancake. Same thing with changing.”</p>
<p>She nodded, the color receding as she composed herself. “Of course, can’t just rush in.” She took in a deep breath and exhaled. Reno was very aware of the rise and fall of her chest in that moment. “I didn’t mean to come on so strong.”</p>
<p>“Don’t worry, you didn’t – I’ll be sure to let you know, otherwise. You know though, we haven’t discussed the most important part of the lessons: payment.”</p>
<p>She rolled her eyes. “I seem to recall you told me I couldn’t afford your therapy; I’m sure I can’t afford your helicopter lessons, either.”</p>
<p>“Oh, don’t worry…I’m sure we can come to some kind of <em>mutual</em> agreement.” The offer was as suggestive as could be.</p>
<p>Another shy smile, and he was nearly undone.</p>
<p>Reno pushed the refill to her and once again raised his own. “To future helicopter rides.”</p>
<p>As they drank their third, the very real effects of the liquor coursed through Tifa, a liquid warmth spreading from her fingers to the tips of her toes. She felt flush, radiating a heat that made both her hands and neck clammy to touch. Time began to slow, all things moving a half beat off rhythm, and could clearly hear the heightened tempo of her heart beneath her breast.</p>
<p>A blink or two to clear her vision was barely enough for her to reclaim her wits. The bar around them was silent aside from the thump of her heart and the hitched breath from her parted mouth. She studied him then, from the sharp slant of his jaw to the way his lips curved into its signature grin. When she came to his eyes, they were staring back at her, heavy-lidded and fully transparent.</p>
<p>“Tell me what else you’re going to do for yourself, Tifa.” His voice was smooth and an octave lower than its normal pitch.</p>
<p>“From the list?” Another drink appeared in front of her, his already within his grasp.</p>
<p>“How about off the cuff,” he gestured to her before taking in the fourth.</p>
<p>Tifa mirrored him, and she couldn’t hide the scorch that singed her insides that time. She thought she heard him laugh at her expense, her features contorting of their own accord. Her lips tingled, and she slid her tongue along the trail of residue to relieve the sting. She heard Reno drop his glass on the counter, and she would have been amused if she didn’t feel she may be equally uncoordinated.</p>
<p>“Do you have a suggestion?” she asked. It felt like a game, and in rare form she was anxious to play. Whether it was the spirit that altered her judgment, or she had come to this of her own volition she wasn’t prepared to analyze. She had wanted to know where he stood, if this was all for naught.</p>
<p>When she looked at him again, the heat of his gaze was smoldering. “I can think of a few things.”</p>
<p>Was she sweating? It felt like a furnace, with her hairline damp and palms perspiring. She hid them, pressing them against the top of her thighs. “Please, share with the class.”</p>
<p>The throwback earned her a laugh, short and clipped. He leaned further forward, peering into her face as if to stare right through her. “I don’t think this student is prepared to hear the assignment.”</p>
<p>The room teetered for a moment, causing her to blink her vision back into focus. She felt her confidence grow as liquid courage swept through her veins. “You shouldn’t underestimate your pupil – she might outperform even you one day.”</p>
<p>He inhaled, long and full. His eyes reflected a raw and primal need as he continued to stare her down. She sensed he was trying to hold tight to whatever control he had left. It was a very familiar moment; one she had been longing to replicate. “Tell me what you want.”</p>
<p>There was an involuntary snap inside of her. Tifa’s mind reeled for her own sense of control, but her hands slipped from the reins and she found herself flailing for them. All she was left with was her unmistakable hunger for him and all he had to offer. Within those glassy, burgundy orbs, her wheels turned, and body shifted as she struggled to reposition herself – the heat between her legs calling for relief. A hand gripped the counter to keep balance, knuckles white with tension. She cast a fervent gaze before the name rolled off her tongue like plea. “Reno.”</p>
<p>In a flash, his boot darted forward and hooked beneath the bottom rung of her stool. With a powerful jerk, it skid across the floorboards and nearly collided with his. She lost her hold, reflexes failing, and jolted forward before he caught her by the arms to slow her momentum. Eyes widened with surprise, but they were free of any inhibition – she wanted this.</p>
<p>But did he <em>deserve</em> this?</p>
<p>The bellow of Reno’s doubts was drowned by the roar of his desires. He slipped his hands around the back of her neck, fingers diving into her dark tresses, taking hold. She couldn’t look away if she wanted to, their faces mere inches apart and lips within dangerous proximity. “My name…say it again.”</p>
<p>“Reno.”</p>
<p>With his name like a shockwave to his pelvis, her mouth was his. Their lips danced, that fiery hunger released and consumed him. He felt her clutch his thighs, digging her nails to create crescent indention's through the fabric. Her actions encouraged him, his hands coming to rest on her bare waist, his grip firm and unyielding. He was rewarded with the increased fervor of her kiss, of which he accepted graciously.</p>
<p>Something broke open deep within his chest, growing hot and tender. It ached in the most delicious way, leaving him weak. It was unrecognizable, the feeling that suddenly flooded and threatened to overwhelm him. It twisted and constricted, pleasure and pain all rolled into one. He heard that voice again, shouting something unintelligible, but he was too wound up to pay it any mind, too anxious to hold Tifa tight, to take her in ways he’d only fantasized about. One night be damned – he’d make an exception.</p>
<p>She broke from him breathless, and he couldn’t disguise the disappointment. However, she silenced his fears by taking his hand, slipping from the stool and silently leading him upstairs.</p>
<p>It hit him violently then, the liquor they had ingested. It felt as if his legs were made of cement when he hopped off and stumbled, each step forward a feat of the highest order. His vision was mildly skewed, but not so much as to not see Tifa struggle to keep straight. A giggle escaped her, and he knew she was a goner as well.</p>
<p>It was this display that caused his sudden hesitation, doubt that curdled at his core and allowed him to retain control over his arousal. The voice became clearer as he honed into its warnings, familiar and foreboding. Second thoughts were not synonymous with the Turk, but on occasion he’d pay them heed.</p>
<p>By some miracle they made it to the landing, and she wasted no time in claiming his mouth at the top that he eagerly returned, his hands roving over her body as they clumsily passed the children's’ room. Tripping over their own feet, they crashed across the way and against a closed door in their haphazard trek to her bedroom, Reno taking the brunt of the collision. Tifa choked on her laughter, parting from his lips to bury her head into his chest to stifle it. Her cheek against his flushed skin was welcome, taking a moment to savor the connection as he wrestled with his inner demons.</p>
<p>He was being pulled in different directions, and he couldn’t focus on anything long enough to decide either way. His inebriation wasn’t helping either, only working to exasperate the already problematic circumstance.</p>
<p>She recovered from her amusement to look into his face in the darkened hall, eyes alight with mischief and desire. The warmth expanded within his chest as he thoughtlessly tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. The smile they shared left him lightheaded.</p>
<p>Pushing off from the door, he followed her lead into her bedroom. She fumbled for a light switch, then gave up to turn back and face him, bathed in the glow from the slice of moonlight that hit the window blinds.</p>
<p>He heard it now, loud and clear. That awful, callous reminder that embedded into his subconscious the moment it invaded his psyche. The more he’d try to ignore it, the louder it became. And there he stood with her, free to claim what he’d been yearning for – to ease the itch that plagued him.</p>
<p>Yet seeing her with hopeful, glassy eyes and a wobbling gait deflated any pleasure he would have garnered from the encounter. She’d be the one who’d get attached. He’d ruin her. He should protect her from himself.</p>
<p>Tifa approached him with shaky hands – with desire, nerves, or intoxication he wasn’t sure – and gripped the lapels of his blazer to push them from his shoulders. The gentle clasp of hands to her wrists halted her advances and stilled the tremble, an expression of confusion overtaking her features.</p>
<p>A knot in his gut formed, the palpitation of his chest thundering and unrelenting, and no one was as shocked as he was with what he was about to say. “I think maybe…we shouldn’t do this.” All other words he had thought to say fell flat on his tongue and back down his throat.</p>
<p>The confusion lingered, as if the information was slow to absorb. And when it did, it came hard and fast. She wretched her wrists free with a step back and he gave no resistance. He could see she was struggling to comprehend the sudden rejection, and he just wanted to close the gap between them and take it all back.</p>
<p>He was angry he cared so much.</p>
<p>“It’s not you…” he started and stopped, feeling so pathetically stupid. It was for her own good, he reasoned. He was garbage.</p>
<p>Tifa stared at him for a long, agonizing moment. All the hurt and loneliness was on full display within those eyes, just as tired and drained as he was. He could have explained himself, told her this was a mistake and she’d regret it. That she had no business sleeping with the man who helped destroy parts of her life, even if she forgave him for it.</p>
<p>When she spoke, her pitch was soft, a decibel above a whisper. “It’s okay. I’m used to this.” She turned from him then, crawling into her bed as if under some hypnotic trance, forgetting he was standing in the middle of her room, watching her fall apart before him.</p>
<p>As much as he admonished Cloud for leaving a woman such as Tifa Lockhart behind, Reno knew he wasn’t any better.</p>
<p>He was just frozen in place to observe her misery.</p>
<p>It would have been best for him to have left then, but he couldn’t. There was an unfamiliar ache that seized his chest, a lump in his throat that blocked any and all words he might have said to lessen her pain, but if he was honest with himself, there was none to give.</p>
<p>Never had he found himself in such a position before. He’d broken hearts in the past, and the detachment was much simpler, the severed cord an uncomplicated and painless snip. But as he gazed upon Tifa’s form, a gentle tremor of her body and muffled weeping, he wanted to mend the broken thread.</p>
<p>Cautiously, step by precious step, he approached her, the room taking a spin or two before leveling out again. Closer now he heard her; over and over she apologized for something, to someone, he didn’t know. He found himself sitting at the edge of the bed, a muted creak sounding beneath his weight. He reached a hand to stroke her hair, but stopped short, hovering. A glance to the door, then back; he was conflicted again. Would he make it worse? But Gods, to listen to her cry was just too much for him to take.</p>
<p>He was responsible for this – for the drinks, for the coquetry, for their one-night affair. He was to blame for her racked sobs and her dead friends and her demolished home and <em>why</em> does he give such a shit about <em>any</em> of this?</p>
<p>Reno knew why – and that was why...</p>
<p>“I’ll tell you why, one day.” He wondered if she could even hear him above her sobs.</p>
<p>Rising from the bed, he crossed the threshold of the doorway and left her in hopes he did the right thing.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Choice</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>In case anyone has played the Remake, I want to note quickly that I'm going off of the OG material and how Reno was essentially the one responsible for Sector 7.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Choice</em>
</p><p>It had been seven nights since he'd been to the bar, and it rained for every single one of them.</p><p>The first morning came much too quickly for Tifa, waking to a devastating headache and lethargic limbs courtesy of over consumption. The sensitivity to light and sound inhibited her ability to piece together the evening prior, moments that blurred and broke apart while others were clear and tangible. It was the immediate conclusion of the evening that was foggiest, yet something told her she may not want to recall the details of it.</p><p>She remembered his arrival, the drinking, the list, and the flirting. She remembered how her lips burned from their alcohol laced kiss, and the treacherous trek upstairs. Beyond that however, everything was sorely difficult to envision. Fuzzy as the mental pictures were, they were accompanied by a heavy foreboding.</p><p>The thought of him elicited both a feeling of fervent longing and consternation, realizing too late she may have been better off in the dark. Recollection filled her with humiliation that came in suffocating waves. Forced to reconcile with the rejection, she wasn't sure what to think. She admonished herself for her actions, her intentions foolish at best. It was nothing but a mistake.</p><p>The reasonable thing to do would be to banish all thoughts and fantasies from her mind, to wipe the slate clean and pretend nothing had ever happened much like they had originally intended, and to lock her deeper feelings away in a proverbial box. Still <em>friends</em>.</p><p>Were they <em>friends</em>? She couldn't deny that his continued presence in her bar had shifted from cautious skepticism to welcomed company within the span of many months, and it surprised her as much as it delighted her. He took the time to speak with her, to acknowledge the trials and tribulations of her day, and every so often took it upon himself to help her with her nightly duties, something she would have never believed if she hadn't seen it for herself. A Turk who cleaned tables and took out her trash - it sounded absurd once said out loud.</p><p>She smiled as she recounted the times he ended a quarrel of his own volition or made a play with flirtatious innuendos, casting a suggestive wink and a sardonic grin. The memories charmed her, filling her with a longing that she'd actively denied existed. The butterflies returned, fluttering on within her belly as his picture in her minds' eye came into full view. He was much more than he presented himself to be.</p><p>But her thoughts spun back around to most recent events and the gravity of what getting closer to him meant. Sleeping with the enemy was not so easily forgiven, even if they no longer posed a direct threat, even if they sought redemption. Anything more than arm's length with a Turk was a betrayal to her friends and family, maybe even herself. She couldn’t fathom any timeline or alternate reality that would have seen any type of union as less than an unforgivable sin.</p><p>Not that he wanted her, anyway.</p><p>The weight of his arduous stare, the intensity of his kiss and the tenderness behind his caress said otherwise. She was torn.</p><p>Those first two days were filled with the effort to simply forget, to check off an entry on her list:</p><p>S<em>pend less time overthinking.</em></p><p>The accusatory tone of her own inner dialogue was deafening, and she silenced it with work she had been neglecting - cleaning under the refrigerator, mopping the bar floor, reorganizing the liquor bottles by alphabetical order, reorganizing again on the date of purchase. She cooked for a small army - mashed potatoes, rabbit stew, chocolate chip cookies - she cooked and baked until it felt like the inside of an oven and her fingers were raw from scrubbing, tearing, slicing, and dicing.</p><p>It didn't take long for exhaustion to hit her and bleed into the evenings. It took a concentrated effort and several cups of coffee to remain functional during business hours, though her customers reaped the benefits of her long, tired hours in the kitchen. With fluid expertise, she tended to the dwindling number of patrons with care and consideration. A dazzling flip of a tumbler here, a wink and a grin there kept her facade deceptively lively and bright. She tried to remain focused on anything and everything other than what her mind wished to naturally gravitate to.</p><p>Eyes fell to the list she'd so joyously created, still dangling in its place between the counter and register. His name captured her attention every time, and her heart skipped a beat.</p><p>She watched the door for him, but he didn’t come.</p><p>There was a sense of relief when her family returned, two-thirds red and crisp from the coastal sunshine. The glare she tossed at their weekend Guardian gave a sheepish look of guilt, having failed, repeatedly it seemed, to apply sunscreen to the children whose skin resembled that of a Red Dragon. Their chatter was enthusiastic as they recounted the time during their vacation hub, heedless of the damage that had been done to their flesh or the fiery pain that was due to remind them of it in the coming days. The tale of Barret's run in with a riptide was particularly amusing, specifically his humorous mortification at details surrounding his mouth to mouth resuscitation from a male lifeguard.</p><p>No sign of Cloud at the villa - not that she had expected it, of course.</p><p>Her fears of Denzel's emotional state were also abated, an air of confidence surrounding the young boy as he offered to take both his and Marlene's belongings to their room, a true act of chivalry. Time and talks with Barret had instilled a sense of purpose in his step, taking the position of 'man of the house' with pride. Anything that kept his spirits high was good enough for Tifa.</p><p>As nightfall came, the bar stayed closed, spending the last several hours of Barret's freedom with him and the children. As they tucked the kids into bed, Marlene presented her newest artwork, crafted with love and childlike innocence that made her smile, albeit a bit sadly. Brown sand and blue skies stood behind the drawn figures. There stood Barret, large and proud behind Denzel and Marlene. Beside them was she and Cloud, hands held with smiling faces. She took the picture as they kissed them goodnight, retreating from the room and softly closing the door behind them.</p><p>It hurt her to know their hopes and expectations were shrouded in fantasy. She'd realized certain things were simply not meant to be, and hoped they eventually came to that reality as well.</p><p>Barret waited just before he left for North Corel to divulge some sensitive information to Tifa, information that both relieved and left her numb.</p><p>Through his many connections around the globe, he had been informed that Cloud was sighted just outside of Gongaga. No further information was available outside of the assumption his deliveries continued due to the package strapped to Fenrir. The work phone had long ago been set to forward calls, therefore Tifa had no real insight regarding his business ventures.</p><p>Barret watched closely as he provided the intel to her, ready for the cracks in her facade to widen, to witness the pain pool at her eyes like so many times before. With no visible reaction to be had, the man was clearly unsettled, presuming she stuffed it down into an unreachable chasm until he was out of sight. "I worry about you," he stated at the door, dark eyes settled into a pensive frown.</p><p>Her assurances fell on deaf ears it seemed, unconvinced by her smile. He often acted as the father figure she was missing, protective and willing to go the distance for her happiness. Ultimately, there were battles that could not be won with bullets and fists. "I know, but I'm fine, really. At least he's okay."</p><p>His voice was calm, speaking to her with a compassionate timbre reserved only for herself and the kids. "Look, Tifa. Your family appreciates all you do and we'll do anything to help. You just gotta ask, though I know you ain't very good at it. We just want what's best for ya."</p><p>The sentiment warmed her as she sent him off, dashing into the storm to catch his transport out of Edge. She silently wondered to herself if he knew what she'd done, would those words still ring true?</p><p>She posted Marlene's drawing on the refrigerator, held in place by the Costa Del Sol souvenir magnet from her family's recent travels. Her attention was pulled to Cloud's likeness, spiked blonde hair unmistakable. A smile from him was a rarity yet captured and displayed all the same. When was the last time she saw him smile? When was the last time she saw him at all? It didn't matter where he was - he wasn't there, with them, and it was becoming easier to accept as time went on.</p><p>The journey up the steps, hand clenched to the banister as she carried herself to the top, left a bittersweet taste in her mouth. The memories were still so fresh, coiling around her mind, revisiting her like an amorous embrace. She knew this feeling, and it did nothing in the past but serve her grief. It was dangerous and unwelcome, yet as she tried to push it away, it would snap back and leave her breathless. She had trouble making sense of it, why now, why <em>him, </em>but she didn't bother to try.</p><p>A closed door on her way to her room beckoned to her, interrupting her more intimate thoughts. So long it had been since she'd stepped foot in it, abandoned for fear of emotional relapse. It was simpler to shut it out than grapple with its constant reminder of a man gone away. Curiosity gripped her then.</p><p>It was time to test the waters.</p><p>Turning the knob, its cold steel sending an icy ripple across her skin, she cautiously entered the room.</p><p>Instantly, she was greeted with a whiff of stale, stagnant air, evidence that it had not been opened for quite some time. The room itself was as it had always been - furnished by a neatly made single bed - its design closer to that of a cot - photos littered across the walls with picture frames and various papers scattered over a work desk. Beside it lay a waste bin, filled with torn and tattered pieces of paper long forgotten. There was a thin layer of dust spread along each surface, the room long neglected.</p><p>How long had it been? Long enough, as she had lost count the days, weeks, and months. Fear for his wellbeing was a constant, afraid that a terrible fate may befall him, but he was alive and that's all that really mattered to her now.</p><p>Her hand gently brushed the cotton blanket of his bed, smooth and undisturbed, before she lowered herself to sit at its edge. Her heart and mind took respite from Barret's words recalling how she'd lain between her own sheets, racked with worry to where he'd gone and the uncertainty of his safety. With calls unanswered and voicemails ignored, panic chilled her blood in the early days, fearful that history was to repeat itself and this time perhaps he'd left to find the ultimate end. But now she knew he was okay after endless months of darkness, and the concern that burdened her, kept her frozen in time, could be released.</p><p>She rose and turned to his desk, lifting one of the frames tenderly as she took in the scene. Knelt, she was clustered with the children, Cloud to their right with the smallest of smiles. Did he ever think of them, the life he left behind to wander free? What was so important to him to abandon what he'd always wanted? So many questions, and she no longer had the desire to know the answer to any of them.</p><p>She thought that this space, these pictures, these memories would affect her differently. Avoidance of this room had been predicated on distancing herself from the reminder of what continued to evade her outstretched hand. She had assumed that the ambiance of loss would break her but instead she felt nothing but guilt and regret – she just couldn't save him from himself.</p><p>Carefully setting the frame into its original position, she turned to leave, a sense of relief washing over her. She had expected tears, expected pain, but walked away free from the chains of despair.</p><p>Her thoughts involuntarily landed on the Turk that haunted her subconscious, and she couldn't help but draw the parallels between the two men in her life.</p><p>There was Cloud, troubled and traumatized by a past she both shared and couldn't begin to completely understand. With his reasons unknown, she couldn't help but wonder if he was continuing to run from the pain of his own regret, preferring solitude and isolation as his punishment.</p><p>And then there was Reno, a man trapped by his vices and equally plagued by past misdeeds that a growing conscience reminded him were heinous, unconscionable and impossible to ever rectify. A man running from his demons and chasing them off with toxins and simple distractions, to numb the mind and freeze the thoughts sought to break him.</p><p>For years, she tried and failed to heal one of them – perhaps there was a chance to heal the other. But was she equipped to aid and mend his broken pieces? Would he even let her? What if she failed<em> again</em>? What if she further broke him?</p><p>Tifa wanted to find out.</p><p>Denzel and Marlene returned to school and all felt as it always did. She pinned her little bucket list to her private cork board in her room with other written reminders and business cards tacked to it. Cloud's most recent note of departure was pinned there too, now buried beneath other miscellaneous parchment. Every day she looked at her list, a reminder of a full life ahead to lead, adding new entries when one would come to mind. A line in particular bore a mark halfway through the name, having been unable to strike through its length entirely. She wasn't ready to let go just yet, and she didn't know why.</p><p>All too quickly, she felt herself slipping back into a mundane normalcy. The days were the same; cleaning, homework, cooking, washing. Nights also felt identical with one another, only the occasional scuffle that would require a firmer hand and tone to diffuse what disrupted the monotony. Everything began to blend as one, the spark of life that flared her awakening quickly dimmed and sputtered in the wind.</p><p>The continued storms had seen a decrease to the traffic within the bar, and under normal circumstances she would have closed early on these nights. However, each evening the lights of Seventh Heaven remained aglow, a beacon of light to illuminate the way.</p><p>By the seventh night Tifa's optimism had significantly deflated, weighed down by the realization his absence spoke louder than words ever could. He left her that night to be consumed in her own dejected sorrow. With the alcohol lowering all inhibitions, it exposed the fragility she strived to hide from the world. Her words of apology rang with piercing frequency, desperate to express her remorse for the position she'd placed themselves into. It was no wonder he hadn't returned. One night was all it was to be, yet they pushed the envelope further. Reno did precisely what he was expected to do, and she was doing what she always did – waited.</p><p>This was for the best, she told herself. Nothing good would have come of it. It would be ruined from the start.</p><p>Still, she couldn't let go.</p><p>The rain poured on, the roofs and windows echoing the sound of the falling sky and Tifa waited, wondering if he would ever come, wondering if it was all for nothing.</p><hr/><p>It had been seven nights since he'd seen her, and he did everything he could not to think of her.</p><p>It seemed like the right choice that night, the correct door to choose, for her sake. Who was he but a sack of damaged goods? A man with a black heart and a filthy past, there was no salvation to be found in his company - he was doing her a favor. There was only more pain on the other end, and the best he could do was spare her the inevitable suffering that would follow.</p><p>And yet, <em>he </em>suffered greatly for it.</p><p>Reno found no reprieve the following days and nights, churning without a real purpose. Shinra enabled momentary distractions, however he found difficulty in concealing his foulness from past events and his pulsating hangovers. Fellow associates were set on edge and provided him a wide berth to work, even those closest to him taking caution. His partner was perhaps the only one able to penetrate the wall he had subconsciously constructed, but even Rude was reluctant to breach it, sharing a word or two only when conversation was initiated.</p><p>The Reno paid little attention to the growing concern around him, although the transparency in his surliness was quite evident. His charming, sarcastic banter took on a sharper inflection, eventually leading most to simply let him be.</p><p>So far in his own head, he didn't seem to notice.</p><p>All the while, the frustration continued to build. He found it easier to ignore the voices than to listen and work through the issues, yet like the drops from the thunderous clouds, they just wouldn't fuck off. Loud and filled with chaos, he wondered what it would take to shut them up for good.</p><p>One night, he went to great lengths to find out.</p><p>Destructive vices were often a Turk's way of handling the more inconvenient facets of the human condition, and he dove face first into his favorite ones. Through his desperation for relief, Reno sought out the seedier side of Edge, the dark corner that every city had to feed the perversion and debauchery of its citizens, veiled in darkness and disgust, where eye contact was avoided lest you received more than you bargained for. These places fit him like a glove.</p><p>The rain fell in thick sheets as Reno passed a tattered and sodden man with a bottle filled with a pungent spirit clenched in his fist. He tossed him some gil in exchange for his drink and opened his throat to welcome the caustic liquid that greeted him, his friend and tormentor all in one. A flock of eccentric street walkers at a dimly lit corner caught his attention next, moving in and out of the shadows with short skirts, high heels and crop tops, protected from the rain above by an ill placed overhang. They regarded him with keen interest, flashing their assets to draw him in.</p><p>With a thorough look through the talent, he paid a hefty fee to one of them not to care about black lines of mascara or sopping wet hair. Long dark hair and large doe eyes, she wasted no time settling to her knees in the dark alley he pulled her into.</p><p>Vision blurred and tipped at a slant, he leaned against what felt like a dumpster - he wasn't entirely sure of his surroundings anymore, the alcohol so potent in his system his blood was likely replaced by it. He felt the woman's slender hand work the bulge between his legs, attempting to awaken him through his trousers. The motions became more rigorous, her ministrations failing to produce the desired result as he closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on the touch.</p><p>When she released his member from its constraints, it didn’t stand at attention. She taunted him, something about faulty equipment, but he didn't hear her; words of another filtered through, someone else thoroughly encapsulating his thoughts.</p><p>Internally, he laughed at the irony of his predicament. Externally, he paid her three hundred gil to go away. He didn't remember the journey home.</p><p>The push and pull of his inner mechanics were persistent in its uncertainty. Did he make the right choice? The question beat through his skull as the evenings dragged on within the solitude of his apartment, one night identical to the next, he was no closer to an answer. He found his only solace was to reach into the bottom of the bottle to quiet the noise and fall to darkness as the sandman forced him into a restless, dreamless sleep.</p><p>The seventh day had him escorting the President to WRO Headquarters along with Rude and a few grunts for added security. Reno took the pilot chair of the Shinra chopper, finding a semblance of peace and control in flying the bird. He thought of Tifa then, as he always seemed to do these days, wondering if she would ever get those lessons she hoped for.</p><p>The meeting with WRO came and went without a hitch - signed contracts appropriating funds tagged with a clause that Shinra personnel would be utilized while WRO sought expansion for their current departments, most prominently the Science and Energy Divisions. Said personnel would be returned to their previous role within Shinra once a permanent employee had been hired, or the Shinra representative may seek permanent employment through written approval of their superior.</p><p>Reno's thoughts instantly drifted to Rude's offer from Reeve many nights ago, wondering if the President knew of his intentions to jump ship and was offering a parachute for the landing. Maybe he wasn't the only one.</p><p>The return to Shinra HQ was quiet, all party’s contemplative. He considered probing Rufus further on what it all meant for Shinra's bottom line. Atonement was all well and good, but he had to wonder why the company was bleeding money into another for seemingly nothing in return. It felt more like a slow merge but wasn't explicitly stated. The Turk reminded himself the President had a bit of a hard on for control, so he could see why he would resist full consolidation. Additionally, the World was still very angry and wary of the Shinra name, and Reeve was unlikely to unravel his efforts due to bad press. Shinra's association to WRO would no longer be a secret, but WRO would still hold the important cards as the face of the new world order.</p><p>He found himself with Rude later that evening at Johnny's Heaven by his own suggestion. The outdoor bar was much more of a hole in the wall than its competition, providing coverage through a reinforced canopy to shield its patrons from the beating sun or passing storms. There were noticeable leaks and drips that splashed to an out of tune rhythm, but it allowed Reno to concentrate on something other than the mounting trepidation in his gut as his partner peered at him from across the small table with a question in his eyes.</p><p>He didn't have to ask - Reno knew what he was thinking.</p><p>"I thought we could use a change of scenery."</p><p>He followed Rude's eye as he surveyed the establishment, noting that the current weather provided no favors in drawing a crowd. A lone patron positioned at the bar counter chatted away at Johnny who listened to whatever the man was babbling about with apt enthusiasm. Another pair sat at a small center table, engaged in their own hushed exchange. A look at the collection of vertical streams pouring from overhead suggested he was having doubts about Reno's choice of venue.</p><p>With his expression settling into its commonly stoic countenance, Rude sipped his whiskey. A generous fog collected across his shades due to the contrast of heat from his skin and the cool air that wafted through, forcing him to remove and clean for visual clarity.</p><p>Reno suddenly questioned why he asked him there in the first place. He remembered their last discussion inside of a bar, one that centered around forgiveness and the woman he didn't deserve to touch. The quandary of Tifa Lockhart continued to unsettle him, and he thought that perhaps getting it out in the open would help him release some of his growing agitation. He was really starting to get sick of himself.</p><p>Returning his glasses to his face, Rude brought his attention squarely back to his friend. "I see."</p><p>"Sounds like a lot of judgment in that tone of yours." He feigned an animated grin. "You need to appreciate small businesses, yo. Spread the wealth. Use the remainder of your Shinra paycheck for some good; this place could use it."</p><p>"Right," Rude drawled, clearly suspicious.</p><p>Reno rolled his eyes, but chose to change the subject. "So, when you tellin' the bosses you're clockin' out for good?"</p><p>"Tomorrow. Two-week notice," Rude stated.</p><p>"Can't believe you're just gonna up and leave me like that. Don't I mean <em>anything</em> to you?"</p><p>Rude’s smirk was subtle. "Don't worry, you'll be fired without me in a weeks' time."</p><p>"You've got a lot of faith in my work ethic. Three days, tops." He held up a few fingers for emphasis as he leaned back, wood creaking with the shift of his weight. "Ya know, I'm kinda surprised Rufus is giving employees an easy out. Guess he means business when it comes to atonement across the board."</p><p>His partner gave a shrug. "Guilt runs deep."</p><p>Boy did he know it.</p><p>"You could join, you know," Rude offered.</p><p>"Aw, partner," Reno grinned, "gonna miss me?"</p><p>"Maybe. Though you've been quite irritable lately."</p><p>There it was; his in to clear the air and provide his confession. "About that...I guess you're wondering <em>why </em>I've been in a shitty mood."</p><p>"A bit. Tseng's been asking questions."</p><p>It surprised him that his boss hadn't bothered to probe him about his persnickety mood personally. "What'd you tell him?"</p><p>Rude shrugged. "Your time of the month."</p><p>Reno snickered. "You've always got my back. The hell am I gonna do without you?"</p><p>It was only then the realization of Rude's departure from the company truly hit home. They'd been partners, friends for well over a decade, the yin to his yang in many respects. The hole the man would leave behind was not going to be easy to fill – quite frankly, it would be impossible.</p><p>Rude cleared his throat awkwardly. "You were saying?" He gestured with his open hand, imploring Reno for an explanation.</p><p>He took a very generous pull from his beer, leg becoming restless under the table as he mulled over what to say and how to say it. "Right. Well it's...complicated."</p><p>"Give me the 'too long, didn't read' version," Rude requested, his tone slightly impatient.</p><p>"I fucked up."</p><p>A snort of a laugh. "That's not helpful."</p><p>Reno discomfort seeped in, a bout of anxiety overtaking his senses that he couldn't recall experiencing in recent memory. It felt like confessing a sin, something he usually abstained from doing; there were just too many of them. "There's a reason why we aren't in Seventh Heaven."</p><p>"Isn't it to support small businesses?"</p><p>"Shut it, you cheeky bastard."</p><p>Reno sighed and threw a cautionary glance around them before slumping forward across the table, arms folded one over the other. "I fucked Tifa."</p><p>The silence was heavy and daunting, feeding the festering anxiety of the moment. Bringing it to open air should have been liberating, but as the silence drew on, he just felt ashamed.</p><p>There was a slight furrow to Rude's brow, noticeable creases indenting his forehead. "When?"</p><p>Reno looked at him with confusion before the query clicked. "Ah...before we had our little chat. It... already happened by then."</p><p>Rude regarded him without judgment, the tension in his face disappearing. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised."</p><p>Reno dragged a hand over his face, reaching for his pack and lighter. He needed something to do with his hands. "Yeah well I am. Was. Still am..."</p><p>"One time?" Rude asked.</p><p>"Yeah, but…" he stopped to light his smoke, unsure of what to say. "Coulda been more. Would have been…"</p><p>Rude seemed to understand something that his friend didn't have to voice. "Caught feelings?"</p><p>He didn't want to answer that one, but he'd come this far. "I might have." The small admission made him feel a bit lighter, however his deepest dilemmas were unresolved.</p><p>For all the years Rude had known him, there wasn't a woman alive that had captured his heart in any real capacity. All of this seemed to surprise him, hazel eyes widening slightly behind his frames. This was serious, and it spared Reno from his playful ridicule. "Gonna do anything about it?"</p><p>"Fuck no. You know relationships don't fit my lifestyle." The reply came twined with indignation, although he wasn't truly convinced of it himself.</p><p>"I see." Neither was Rude.</p><p>"The hell are you implying there, partner?"</p><p>"That's only half true."</p><p>Reno knew which half he meant, that it was only a matter of time before his determination to abstain would crumble, and he'd jump right back into the fire that scorched him. "I can't go back. Not with what I've done."</p><p>There was an unspoken understanding between them just then. If anyone could relate to the heaviness of his guilt, it was another Turk whose hands were just as bloody as his own.</p><p>"Orders were orders then."</p><p>A deep scowl settled on Reno's face, taking in a drag to calm the sudden wave of irritation the conversation imposed. "Indefensible ones at that. How can I look her in the fuckin' eye and just be okay with it? How can <em>she</em> be okay with it?"</p><p>Drumming his fingers against the glass rim of his tumbler, he gave the man across an inquisitive look. "Gonna stay away, then?"</p><p>"I should."</p><p>Rude smirked, but it carried no joy or humor. "You won't."</p><p>"Fuck off," he grumbled, but he knew it was probably true.</p><p>A gust of wind flowed through the venue, sending an icy chill from the top of his neck to the base of his spine. Reno wasn't sure if it was courtesy of the cold or something emotionally invasive, but it left him feeling uneasy.</p><p>"Cassie thinks you have intimacy issues."</p><p>The statement jarred him, his hackles raising defensively at the accusation. "You can tell <em>Cassie </em>she can shove her psychoanalysis straight up her - " the look received from Rude forced him to reconsider his retort and provide some restraint, "what I meant to say was...please ask her to keep her lovely mouth shut."</p><p>A chuckle bubbled from Rude as he drained the remainder of his liquor. "She's right."</p><p>Reno became visibly flustered, his free hand pulling into a fist as he blindly flicked away the ash from his cigarette with the other. "Whose side are you on?"</p><p>"The right side," Rude responded.</p><p>Reno scoffed, agitation lacing his tone, "How the times have changed. I don't think I like your attitude anymore, <em>ex</em>-partner."</p><p>There was a bit of regret that flashed across his face, yet Rude appeared to take the bite in stride. He was the only one on the Planet he could be real with. A small nugget of solace on a plate full of disaster.</p><p>He raked a hand through his hair, visibly distressed. "Ah fuck...what has she done to me?"</p><p>"Definitely didn't make you any less of an asshole." A whimsical smirk crossed his visage.</p><p>"We are seriously about the throw down if you keep this up, yo." Annoyed as he was, he didn't mean a word of it.</p><p>The humor faded from Rude in favor of an expression a bit more serious in nature. "Do you know how she feels?"</p><p>A query he didn't know the answer to, maybe didn't even want to know. Eyes clouded with the memory of their last night together, his southern border evoking an ill-timed and unwelcome response while his chest constricted from the mental imagery.</p><p>His silence was louder than any verbal response he could muster.</p><p>A small nod told Reno his friend understood. The mutual awareness between them was as unnerving as it was comforting.</p><p>"Maybe you should ask her."</p><p>Reno couldn't help but reflect within that moment, the proposal heightening his already frayed nerves. Doubt filled him to the brim, but what was the root cause? His guilt regarding past transgressions was obviously at play, as was the desire to protect her from his dangerous wiles, but there was more behind the motivation of withdrawal.</p><p>The truth hit him like a bullet to the brain.</p><p>He was <em>afraid.</em></p><p>Maybe he <em>did</em> have intimacy issues.</p><p>Reno stared at his partner with the same intensity that swelled in his gut and weighed down his stomach like an anchor. "If <em>you</em> don't think you deserve to touch her, how the fuck can I?"</p><p>Rude remained impeccably calm, reaching into his inner breast pocket to pull his phone free to view the time. "That might not be for us to decide."</p><p>The answer made him angry. If he had allowed himself to rationally absorb the information, he might have seen it to be true; he made the decision for her by walking away. As good as his intentions may have been, he didn't give her an option - he'd decided for her.</p><p>When he opened his mouth to respond, to vent his frustrations at the man who was merely trying to provide guidance in navigating his unusual predicament, he knew it was misplaced. The words died on his lips, and he sat back feeling far more perplexed now than he’d been from the start.</p><p>Returning the phone to his blazer, Rude leaned across the table, calloused fingers weaving together in front of him. His tone took an edge of compassion, rare for the otherwise stoic Turk. "It was you who said we can be forgiven. Maybe we should start to believe it."</p><p>Reno chuckled, void of humor. He thought he believed in the sentiment when he'd pronounced it then, but the idea of applying it to his own reality felt more like a fantasy.</p><p>Rude stood from the table and fished out his wallet, laying out a sum of gil to its surface. As he slipped his arms through the sleeves of his ebony raincoat, Reno pulled himself from his rueful reverie.</p><p>"Hey...you let Cassie decide, didn't you?"</p><p>Only a handful of times had Reno ever seen such an authentic smile capture his friends' face, one which brightened his eyes and projected genuine sincerity. It was all he needed to say, without saying anything at all.</p><p>In the distance, Johnny gushed about Seventh Heaven, about Tifa Lockhart, to the customers seated at the center table. An inspiration she was to his own business, and they would be remiss not to go give it a chance.</p><p>Rude disappeared into the storm, and Reno followed his fleeting form until he was swallowed by the night, all the while pondering the same question that had haunted him for many days and nights without end:</p><p>Did he make the right choice?</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Open</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Open </em>
</p><p>Gloves up and feet aligned, the punching bag shuddered and swung beneath a well-placed one-two jab to its core.</p><p>Tifa managed to arrange the purchase of the slightly worn training aid from Jules’ Gym - having relocated to Edge upon Midgar’s destruction - earlier that morning. The travel across town wet and slick, angry black clouds above drenching the city. Despite the treacherous journey, she checked off another entry from her list:</p><p><em>Buy a punching bag</em>.</p><p>Lugging the 70 lbs. bag of sand from the trunk of her car, she set it on a metal hook. Chain links connected the hook to a rafter beam above, hanging it in the vacant space that Fenrir once occupied within the garage. Its glossy black finish had faded from time and wear, patched with silver tape to plug the tears, but it was good enough for her purposes.</p><p>The firm resistance beneath her strikes sent her back to days of heavy battles and battered bodies, her torn and tattered leather gloves embracing her like an old friend. Every punch from her fists to its rugged surface pumped her with adrenaline as a thin sheen of perspiration dotted her hairline.</p><p>Initially resolute in her choice to heal, her determination had significantly diminished. A week of radio silence was enough to extinguish her optimism in his appearance, and she was beginning to think the endeavor a lost cause. Perhaps this was a sign to focus on herself for once, to pour her time and energy into what made <em>her </em>happy.</p><p>What did <em>she </em>want?</p><p>The sand shifted beneath her knuckles as did her thoughts, sweet recollection of fallen foes gracing her memory. It had been some time since she’d taken to such aggressive releases, her last true battle nearly a year ago. While safety within Edge was far from guaranteed, there hadn’t been a need for such extreme measures in keeping the physical peace since WRO agents had taken to public safety and patrolled the city streets. Even in Seventh Heaven, the times an altercation required force by her hand was rare, and a pressure hold of some kind was often enough to temper the rising climate.</p><p>The exertion reminded her precisely how long it had been; muscles ached from consistent extension and pressure. The skin of her knuckles, while well protected, whined beneath leather. Breath came in deep pulls as she stilled the sway of the bag between her hands. It felt good, using her fists again.</p><p>The vibration of her phone caught her attention, rattling against the hood of her car. She crossed the floor to retrieve it, flipping it open without viewing the caller I.D. “Yes?”</p><p>A snort of a laugh filtered through the other end. “Did I...interrupt something?”</p><p>Tifa rolled her eyes at the thinly veiled suggestion. “No, Yuffie. And get your mind out of the gutter.”</p><p>“Hey now, you went there not me! Besides, you were probably doing something lame like rearranging furniture.”</p><p>Was she really <em>that</em> boring? “I bought a punching bag. I was testing it out.”</p><p>The young woman giggled. “Oh snap! Tifa’s getting ready to kick some ass! Who's the unlucky guy <em>or</em> girl? Was it some idiot at the bar? Tell me!”</p><p>She shook her head with a smile. “Just practicing.”</p><p>Yuffie was much like the younger sibling she never had – vivacious, spunky, and often shooting off from the hip. As the years wore on however, a bit of maturity seemed to creep its way in. Either from the company she kept within their inner circle or her current position at WRO, she was rounding out to be much more than the Materia thief she once proclaimed to be.</p><p>Her exasperated sigh was loud and obnoxious. “Geez; couldn’t you make up a story or something for me?”</p><p>Tifa rolled her eyes. “Did you call just to say hello?</p><p>“Well...not really. I mean, I’d <em>love </em>to chat about how a Blood Taste bit me right on my ass or that pretty hot guy I met at Modeoheim who turned out to be a pedophile--”</p><p>“A <em>what </em>?” Tifa was incredulous.</p><p>Her friend rushed on, “But that’s not the important stuff! Now that I think about it, I should probably get tested for rabies...”</p><p>“Yuffie...”</p><p>“Okay, okay.” She huffed, and Tifa bit back her laughter in response to the unnecessary drama. “What I’m about to tell you is technically classified – at least for the next couple weeks or so before the official announcement is made, so you can’t tell <em>anyone</em>. Got it?”</p><p>There was something endearing about Yuffie entrusting sensitive information to her. Another layer of their bond from past travels and shared hardships. “Pinky swear.”</p><p>“That’s my girl!” Yuffie took in a deep breath, “It’s kind of a two-parter. The first has been going on for a while now, but Rufus Shinra has been funding WRO.”</p><p>Tifa’s eyes widened a bit in surprise, taking the conversation from the garage back into the house. How the funds were obtained was never discussed and brushed off if ever questioned. Now she knew why.</p><p>Stepping through the doorway and into the kitchen, she sunk down into one of the dark wooden chairs surrounding a small, circular dining table at the rooms’ center. “I guess it makes some sense. Rufus feels he owes a debt to the Planet, and WRO is trying to build it back up.” The truth of it was quick to realize, the gravity of the impending situation revealing itself. “Yuffie...does Barret know this?”</p><p>“No one does, really,” she answered. “I do, because I’m head Intelligence. I know <em>everything</em>.” A snicker followed, “But no way I could tell Barret or even Cid - they'd both have a coronary. Reeve was pretty adamant that they didn’t know.”</p><p>“For good reason,” Tifa said, idly pulling the loose thread from the floral place mat in front of her. “But you said this is going public. They <em>are</em> going to know, now. Everyone will.”</p><p>“Kind of unavoidable considering the next bit.” There was a brief pause. “Dear leader President Shinra just opened more funding to a couple of Departments, namely Energy and Science. Kinda peeved <em>we</em> aren’t getting extra money but that’s <em>another</em> story. Well, we’re getting a few new people but we need new equipment and –”</p><p>“Focus.”</p><p>“Keep yer panties on,” Yuffie grumbled. “Anyway, this is good news on the surface, since they need more people <em>and </em>equipment for the expansion. The caveat is...Shinra employees will be filling the roles either temporarily or permanently. Which means…”</p><p>The lump that formed nearly choked her. “Barret will be working with Shinra. Oh no…” Forcing Barret to cooperate with Shinra to any degree was catastrophic at best. There was no trust, and the bad blood sizzled to a near boil with almost no provocation.</p><p>This was a disaster.</p><p>“I know what you’re thinkin’ and you’ve hit the nail on the noggin!” She sighed, the humor fading. “So, I wanted to give you a heads up cause he’s gonna lose his cranium when he finds out and might blow your ear off with his bitching. Reeve is dreading that conversation, thinkin’ about letting him find out through the public announcement.”</p><p>“No, he can’t do that,” Tifa argued. “He’ll feel betrayed. He has to tell him, himself.”</p><p>“That’s what I told him. Or least do it through Cait Sith. He has 500 more of those things in case Barret shoots it full o’ holes. Cid’ll probably just swear until he has a heart attack, but it probably wouldn’t be the first one, so I’m not too worried about him.”</p><p>The discussion of Shinra made her uneasy, but not for the reasons she would have expected. They all carried an extraordinarily painful history with the organization, many of her friends unlikely to ever bury the hatchet. It worried her more than perhaps it should have. “How do <em>you </em>feel, working with Shinra?”</p><p>“I sure don’t like it. But...we’re doing a lot of good with their money - dunno if WRO would still be functioning without it, if I’m being honest. It’s weird, and sometimes brings back bad memories knowing that we’re still kinda under their thumb in some way, but we’re making things better. Working with them though...I dunno. Thankfully they aren’t infiltrating <em>my</em> department!” She changed the subject. “By the way, how are <em>you </em>doing?”</p><p>“I’m good.” The answer was quick and automatic. She was tempted to bend her friend’s ear, but she didn’t know where to start.</p><p>“Did uh...Barret tell you--”</p><p>“He did, and I’m fine. Like I told him, I’m glad he’s okay.” Everyone was always cautious with the subject of Cloud, walking on eggshells at the mere mention of his name or even the insinuation of his relevance. She really wished they would stop treating her with kid gloves; it simply didn’t affect her the way everyone assumed it would.</p><p>Not anymore, anyway.</p><p>“If you say so,” Yuffie responded with a hint of skepticism. “You know, I get some days off soon. I can come over and we can have a girls’ night and eat super buttery popcorn and make fun of rom-coms… I can watch the kids if you wanna take some time to yourself, or go find someone to get freaky-deeky with.”</p><p>The last time she’d placed the children's well-being into Yuffie’s care, she returned to the scent of burnt cookies, a mess of a kitchen, and intricate blanket forts throughout the house. Two sick bellies was the end result, but the smiles on the children’s faces despite their misery was enough to reduce the reprimand of her child-sitting to a simple finger wag. “I think I’d like that.”</p><p>There was a smile in her voice. “Awesome! Well I’ve gotta get back to spying - <em>gathering intelligence </em>. Give the kids my best!”</p><p>Before the sound of disconnection echoed in her ear, Tifa again considered confiding some of her own secrets. “Hey, Yuffie?”</p><p>“What’s up?”</p><p>Blood ran cold as her nerve evaporated. Her mouth grew dry and bitter as she rushed to collect the query that ran from her in fear. “Do you think you could ever forgive Shinra? Or at least...those who work for it?”</p><p>The extended silence on the other end furthered her apprehension. “If you asked me a year ago I would have said no way José. Now though...not real sure. What about you? You’ve had a hell of a run with them in your history.”</p><p>Tifa certainly hadn’t forgotten she suffered much by their hand over the years, their cronies carrying out the orders that trickled from the top and put her life in ruins more than once, forcing her to rebuild over and over and taking those she loved from her in the process. She accepted that while the name would always carry an acrid taste and harrowing memories, such feelings were reserved for what they represented, and not for all its people.</p><p>Her response was a bit less confident than intended. “I think so.”</p><p>“Well, maybe telling Barret that will help him over the hump. Though you should probably wear bullet proof armor when you say it.” A pause, muffled mumbling in the background, “Shit - I really gotta go. Bye!”</p><p>The call ended abruptly, leaving Tifa with her thoughts in silence, removing the option to bring her present dilemmas to light.</p><p>Perhaps it was much too soon to discuss. While Yuffie’s current ties to Shinra reduced her knee-jerk reactions of hatred and disgust, giving her the details pertaining to Reno and their one night tryst, and their almost repeated tryst, and her blooming feelings because of the tryst...it was all too overwhelming to put into words. It was another thing she would handle herself, just as she always did.</p><p>The afternoon came and went. From picking up the children from school, to dinner, and finally dropping Marlene off to a friends’ house for a sleepover, Tifa found her thoughts rolling incessantly over Yuffie’s warning. She simply didn’t know how Barret could take the pseudo-merge any other way than terribly. He’d spent years fighting their tyranny only to join forces against his will. However the reveal came to pass, it wouldn’t be pretty.</p><p>That evening, Denzel pressed Tifa to allow him to assist her that night with the bar. The storm raged outside, and she surmised the night would be another quiet one. Assuming boredom was a likely motivator, she inevitably relented and designated busy work to keep his mind occupied.</p><p>Her prediction was mostly accurate. The few patrons that filtered in were hardcore regulars, their arrivals as routine as a clock striking noon. And they were patient with Denzel, who asked to take their orders even if Tifa had memorized their preferences.</p><p>Denzel’s change in demeanor remained intact after his time with Barret, as did the tender red hue of his flesh. A thin layer peeled from his freckled face, the patchy flakes resembling that of a snake shedding its skin. While Marlene had been vocal about her red-faced misery, Denzel stayed strong and kept his discomfort mostly to himself.</p><p>With mop in hand, he took to the floors, removing most of the water tracked in, the welcome mat at the entrance limited in its capacity to absorb it. He glanced from his work to catch Tifa’s eye who watched him fondly. He spared a smile in return and continued with his duty.</p><p>The door swung wide, and the hail of the rain echoed against the roofs and roads outside throughout the venue. The sodden shock of scarlet locks against a pale silhouette crossed the floor to his regular stool, brows set firm on his countenance as he signaled for his usual, hands and navy overcoat soaked from the downpour.</p><p>Tifa’s breath caught in her throat, frozen mid-wipe as she peered at him with cautious eyes. She could see, quite plainly, he was guarded and stoic, a stark contrast to what was typical of his character. His energy was different as well – dour and unbalanced in nature. This was another side to Reno she’d never seen, and she couldn’t help but feel concerned.</p><p>She hadn’t forgotten their last encounter, relishing in the revelry of his caress and their heated kiss. With it came the hurt and tears of his rejection, and the extended absence that left her wondering if it was all a mistake. Now he was here, and she still wasn’t certain of anything other than he was broken too.</p><p>A warm presence at her side pulled her attention. She looked down to see Denzel who cautiously watched the new arrival. His words came in a whisper. “That’s a Turk, isn’t it?”</p><p>“Yes,” she matched his pitch, “but he’s a friend.”</p><p>The boy frowned a bit curiously, “Barret said the Turks were bad people, like the rest of Shinra.”</p><p>Tifa sighed, laying a hand gently on his shoulder. It was unsurprising to hear him say it, but nonetheless it was one more thing she had to navigate. “They were, but they aren’t anymore. Don’t you remember at the square...he and his partner came to help the city last year?” The details were unnecessary – none of them could forget.</p><p>His eyes averted in concentration, then lit up in remembrance. He nodded his head in reply.</p><p>“Then you know he tried to help us all – so let’s be kind to him, okay?”</p><p>Denzel seemed to consider the request before nodding again, this time in understanding, and returned to his work with the floor and mop.</p><p>After retrieving his drink of choice, Tifa walked to Reno’s spot at the counter, popping the top and placing it in front of him. He dipped into his pack and pulled free a smoke, thumping the end against his palm a final time before setting the tip alight with his flame, taking a drag. His cool aqua eyes avoided her burgundy ones rather pointedly, lifting the brew to pull a swig.</p><p>His avoidance unsettled her, but present company prevented her from probing. She let it alone instead, gliding down to the bars’ end to give him space.</p><p>As Reno sat there, mindlessly burning through cigarette after cigarette, he realized he was no closer to an answer to his predicament.</p><p>The agitation continued to build, his conversation with Rude the previous night shedding light on his dilemma and perhaps coming to the conclusion he’d made the wrong move. But now that he was there, he was suspended in place, unable to move forward and put words to the question he had for her. It also didn’t help that her kid was present.</p><p>He had nothing against children, having had a younger sibling of his own such a long time ago. In truth, their lack of a filter greatly amused him. But children didn’t come into his line of work often, and if they did, it was under foul pretenses. The one grace he had in life was not having to kill kids.</p><p>At least, not directly.</p><p>As the minutes drew on, culminating into hours, Reno remained stoic throughout his silent contemplation. The air was thick with tension between himself and Tifa, and Denzel kept a watchful eye on his person. The earlier patrons of the night had long vacated, and no one else risked drowning in the vigorous weather that swept through the city. </p><p>Denzel stood on a step stool and positioned it at the sink where he methodically cleaned the same glass over and over, staring at the Turk with obvious curiosity. Reno was intrigued.</p><p>He cast a quick glance to Tifa, who was focused on a stack of receipts, a calculator, and a pen clenched between her teeth. He looked back at him kindly. “Helping out tonight?”</p><p>Denzel froze, clearly surprised he’d been addressed. “Yes.”</p><p>Tifa paused her work to passively listen in on the exchange, evident by the gentle tilt and subtle turn of her head.</p><p>“She needs it sometimes. Gets pretty busy in here, yo.”</p><p>The boy nodded.</p><p>“Cloud’s been gone awhile,” he took a quick sip from his beer. “I assume you’re taking good care of the girls?”</p><p>His lips curled upward into a small, prideful smile. “I’m the man of the house; it’s my job now.”</p><p>The clatter of a pen momentarily disturbed their dialogue. Through a sidelong glance, he witnessed Tifa bend over at the waist to retrieve it from the floor. The effort to recalibrate his brain back to the kid was troublesome, but he managed. “You’re damn right it is.” A smirk spread across his mouth. “You’ve also gotta make sure they’re protected. What’s your weapon of choice?”</p><p>Denzel looked a bit puzzled at the query as Tifa visibly tensed, her face pulling into a frown. “Weapon?”</p><p>“Well, Tifa over there has her fists, good ol’ Barret has a gun for an arm, Cloud’s got an oversized sword, and I’ve got this.” He reached beneath his coat to pull his Electro-mag rod free from the clip on his belt, extending the baton for the boy to see. A small flick of the wrist and a tap to the charge button sent its crackling blue tendrils into the air, there and gone in almost an instant.</p><p>Large eyes flew wide with wonder and fascination as he leaned forward for a better view. “That’s cool! You use that to fight the monsters?”</p><p>“Those, and other things.” The kid didn’t seem to make the connection, too entranced by the device to work it out. “Wanna hold it?”</p><p>Before Denzel could reach for the baton, Tifa interjected. “Denzel, I think it’s time for you to head to bed now.”</p><p>Disappointment painted his expression, and with a final look to Reno, he hopped down from the stool. As he passed Tifa, he asked, “Can I get a cool weapon like that to protect you and Marlene with?”</p><p>“We’ll talk about it,” she responded quietly, a hint of annoyance lacing her tone as she bent forward to kiss the top of his tousled hair. “Good night.” She shot the Turk a glare as he retracted his weapon and returned it to its clip, a hint of a mischievous grin capturing his mouth.</p><p>Denzel muttered his ‘good night’ as he shuffled obediently toward the stairs and left.</p><p>Tifa turned to Reno then. “What in the world were you thinking? What are you trying to do?”</p><p>He actually didn’t know. Something about the innocence of a child had struck a chord as he watched Denzel throughout the evening. While there was a weight of experience on his shoulders, he wasn’t irrevocably damaged and tainted by the rot the Planet had to offer. An orphan struck with Geostigma – it was a sore hand to be dealt, but he landed right side up after all.</p><p>Or maybe he just wanted another reason for Tifa to be pissed at him. Despite the assurance from his partner, he was still at odds with himself, and had a knack for self-sabotage.</p><p>Reno shrugged his reply, attention falling to his beer as he nursed it. He was insufferably sober and felt the window to change that rapidly closing.</p><p>A retort was formulating on her tongue, but whatever it was, she chose to hold back. Instead, she rounded the counter and approached the door, throwing the locks and flipping the ‘Closed’ sign. When she returned to him, she took the stool at his side, seated forward, eyes ahead.</p><p>Tifa seemed sure of what to say, but the words all retreated down her throat, fidgeting with her fingers instead. His behavior was all over the place – from impassivity to actively baiting her with Denzel; she wasn’t sure how to approach him. The only thing she knew was something deeply troubled him, and she’d do her best to help him through it.</p><p>The silence between them permeated, its extension prolonged and uncomfortable. Eventually, Tifa fell back on awkward small talk just to get the ball rolling. “How’s work?”</p><p>There was no response from the damp Turk, taking another drag from his cigarette, ash littering the counter and dusting his clothes.</p><p>Tifa hated it when he was quiet, so much more than his biting wit when it was meant to sting. He hadn’t treated her in such a way in a long time, but those battle taunts were clear as a recording when she so chose to travel back to relive them.</p><p>“It’s been quiet here, with the rain,” she pressed on, her gut filling with mounting uncertainty.</p><p>He reached for his beer, taking a long deliberate pull from its contents. Still, he gave no response.</p><p>“I heard Cloud’s somewhere in Gongaga a few days ago. Glad to know he’s okay.”</p><p>The bottom of the bottle landed against the bar top with a thud. It appeared that just for a moment he was going to speak, but inevitably stayed silent, returning to his dwindling smoke instead.</p><p>The frustration snapped like a worn rubber band and she turned on him. “Why are you here if you aren’t going to say anything to me?”</p><p>He snuffed his cigarette in the tray, only to pull another from the pack, the motion thoughtless and robotic. “Is ‘I don’t know’ a viable answer?”</p><p>“No, it’s not.”</p><p>“Well, that’s what I got.”</p><p>“There’s more to it than that.”</p><p>Reno looked over at her, expression ruefully pensive. “Is there? How sure are you of that? What do you actually know about me, <em>Lockhart</em>?”</p><p>The acid in his voice was unsettling, but she’d seen such defenses before. The coping mechanism to hide pain or something more damaging. It wasn’t uncharted territory, but she’d never traversed it with him before.</p><p>Blocking her own effusive anxiety from overflowing, she looked at him empathetically. “I know you’re conflicted. I know you have regrets, and you hide from them with the drinks, sex, anything else that will numb them away.”</p><p>Reno visibly flinched, and the look in her eyes infuriated him - specifically because she was right. “I didn’t ask you to be my therapist.”</p><p>She smiled sadly. “You couldn’t afford me anyway.”</p><p>Reno laughed humorlessly. “Clever girl.” His visage grew reflective, eyes focusing on anything and everything but her. “Tell me...why don’t you hate me?”</p><p>The inquiry surprised her, and the answer didn’t come quickly. She wondered if this question was the crux of it all, and she feared her hesitation would inspire further withdrawal. Fumbling for a reply that would satisfy his curiosity, she turned over her reasons. One sent her heart aflutter, and she wasn’t certain if either of them was prepared for the confession. “It wasn’t personal.”</p><p>Reno seemed to be considering her answer as he flicked his smoke repeatedly with his thumb, some sort of nervous tick. Something was brewing, eyes clouded with a deep, untold darkness he kept hidden away.</p><p>When he pulled out of his reflection, he appeared much older and tired. “I’ve killed a lot of people.”</p><p>The admission made her blood run cold, but she steeled herself for more, adopting an expression of neutrality.</p><p>He was letting her in.</p><p>With his sights downcast into a black void of endless transgressions, he picked the ones that hurt the most. “I’ve given a bullet to the face of a target, and watched his brains plaster the walls, only to find out I had the wrong guy. I strangled a woman with a garrote wire, listened as she gasped for air, for mercy as I choked every last bit of life from her while her husband watched, screaming until his voice was shot out by my pistol.” </p><p>Reno paused, searching for any cracks in her mask, but she remained stone still. As he continued, he tried to remain apathetic. “I’ve sunk my thumbs so deep into an opponent's sockets, the gore beneath my nails lingered for a week.” He paused to swallow the bile. “I don’t remember the names of my victims, but I remember their faces, and if I think long enough about it, I hear them too.”</p><p>The bright orange glow peeled away at the paper fibers of his smoke, hanging limp in his two fingered grip. The images haunted him, reliving a plethora of moments he’d worked so hard to bury with his vices. To bring voice to any of them reconstructed each scene, where he’d once been able to kill indiscriminately, his tongue now coated with the bitter taste of guilt. It was an unwelcome trait for a Turk, one that would easily put you in the ground by your own hand if you left it unchecked.</p><p>He extinguished the cigarette before turning to her, eyes raw and exposed. “I dropped the Sector 7 plate with my own hands and killed thousands of people, <em>your</em> people. I tried to kill you and your friend’s numerous times. And I did it all because <em>they</em> told me to.” His soul was bare for her to see, from every grievous act to every tender emotion he carried, she could see all of it. “You should <em>hate</em> me for this. For <em>all</em> of this.”</p><p>Tifa peered through the proverbial door and absorbed his confession. She witnessed the self-flagellation, the torture and punishment he inflicted on himself for a past he would never be able to change or rectify while simultaneously desperate to numb and dull the misery that followed. She had plenty of reasons to hate him, to loathe and despise his very existence. But...</p><p>“I don’t.” Her pitch was faint, delicate, and breathless. “At least, I don’t hate you.  I hate what you represent, I hate what you’ve done. But I don’t hate <em>you </em>...at all.”</p><p>For some reason, this angered him. Reno was scum, a monster, trash. He <em>killed</em> her <em>friends</em>. And yet even after all of this, there was no hate to be had in her heart for him.</p><p>This was his answer, and he wasn’t ready.</p><p>And he wanted to <em>hate her</em> for it. He wanted to scream, to hurt her, to make her see that he was <em>nothing</em>. Instead, he settled for insulting her. “Well then, you’re an idiot.”</p><p>He watched the corners of her eyes crease with shallow lines of restrained anger, and he felt a sense of satisfaction. Color faded from her pursed lips, hands coming to fists in her lap. “I am not. I just care.”</p><p>“That was your first mistake.” He wanted nothing more than to push every single one of her buttons. “Didn’t your parents ever warn you about guys like me, that we ain’t no good, that we can’t be saved? Because that’s what you really wanna do isn’t it? Save me - to be your next project because you couldn’t save Strife?” His eyes narrowed, boring into her as she looked back, her posture erect, ready for anything. “You see, some things in this life just can’t be fixed. You can’t put a man’s’ brain back in his head and breathe life into his face. You can’t change or undo death - it’s permanent. The stains on these hands will never, ever fade and there isn’t a Goddamn thing anyone can do about it. Not you, and least of all not me.”</p><p>The thunder in the distance fueled the growing tension, the air thick with it. The ordinarily low hum of the cooler behind the bar was painfully loud as Reno waited for her to kick him the fuck out.  </p><p>When the lines of her eyes smoothed into the silk of her pale vista, and lips curved into a patient, sympathetic smile, he knew that he was done for.</p><p>The warmth of her hand reached out against his face, delicately tracing the red mark along the cheekbone. Instinctively, he pressed into her touch. Fingertips trailed down his jawline, grazing his lips to finally rest on the bare skin of his chest as she slipped off from the stool to stand before him, the length of her body inches within his own. The proximity was beautifully suffocating, the very scent of her eliciting a response that was both involuntary and delightful. Time stood still, and for a moment he simply couldn’t breathe. His anger, his fear slipped away and he no longer remembered why he was so resistant in the first place.</p><p>Tifa touched a part of him he was convinced was dead, or perhaps never existed at all. She spoke to a need, a longing he yearned for that had been long neglected, sullied with casual cravings. Perhaps he didn’t deserve her, but she wanted him. </p><p>She made her choice. </p><p>“Why do you run?” she asked quietly.</p><p>“You won’t understand.” </p><p>Tifa moved closer, hips set between his legs. “Tell me anyway.”</p><p>Gazing into her glistening eyes, those twin mirrors reflected a man he didn’t know, but the man she thought he could be, the man he <em>wanted</em> to be, and the fight within him melted away. His arms snaked tentatively around her waist as he pulled her against him. She didn’t resist, malleable to his embrace. “Because if I don’t, I’ll drown.”</p><p>Her hands slid across his shoulders, settling her arms around his neck. Her cheek rested against the top of his disheveled mane. “My hands aren’t clean either, you know.”</p><p>“You know it’s not the same.” There was a hint of anger to his tone, and he quickly aimed to check it. “Trust me...you don’t want to relate to this.”</p><p>Tifa pulled back to gaze into his face. The arrogant, sardonic bravado had crumbled to nothing, exposing the truth of who he was and what he needed and wanted to be. Behind the barriers and barbs was fear, but with it came a bit of hope. She wondered if she had anything to do with the latter.</p><p>His fingers pressed urgently against her back to keep her close, one tracing down just above the waistband of her skirt. A quiver rippled over her skin from his touch, his eyes speaking clearly to his intentions.</p><p>“Why did you come back?” she asked, a gentle tremor in her voice exposing her own, controlled desires.</p><p>The heat behind his eyes was enough to burn her alive. “You know why.”</p><p>They didn’t frighten her. She would let the flames to consume her. “Show me.”</p><p>In the not so distant past, Reno knew he would have scooped up and exploited the request without a second thought. Lust would overcome every thought and he would allow himself to be swept away with the pleasure it wrought.</p><p>In his core, he felt things had changed far beyond his scope of understanding. He was no longer looking at a casual affair, but the potential of something far more than perhaps he thought he could handle. Fear found its way to his chest, his heart picking up speed in its rhythm. He left her once, and while he would be remiss to do it again, the weight of expectation was liable to crush him. Yet even at this thought, this panic that clawed at him, he motioned forward to show her exactly why he returned to her.</p><p>He kissed her, lips claiming hers with a slow, languid tranquility. Tifa held fast to her grip around his collar, knees set to buckle as a lightheaded weightlessness swept through her sensory.  Her mind went utterly black, all thoughts eclipsed by their shared expression, silent communication of their deepest pleasures.</p><p>This was what she wanted.</p><p>A sudden flurry of footsteps clamoring downstairs jarred them both apart. Tifa’s eyes widened and skin flushed to crimson as she looked toward the source at the stairwell, nearly tripping over herself to create some space between them.</p><p>Denzel, adorned by a pair of solid blue pajamas, reached the floor by then, slowly approaching the pair with small hand patting at the tender skin of his cheeks. “Tifa, my face keeps itching and I can’t sleep.”</p><p>She cut a quick look to Reno, who was fully composed and not nearly as mortified as she was, then back to Denzel, who was now staring at him as well. “I told you to use the aloe vera, sweetie.”</p><p>“I can’t find it. I think Marlene took it with her,” he replied, his attention centered on the visitor.</p><p>“Sounds like my cue,” Reno said, flashing a grin at Denzel as he stood to his feet. </p><p>Her hand reflexively grabbed for his wrist before dropping it entirely, suddenly cognizant of their audience. “Hold on, I’ll...close you out. Denzel, go upstairs. I have another bottle and I’ll bring it to you, okay?”</p><p>Several moments passed, blue eyes switching between each adult, clearly in no hurry to leave. His eyes landed on Reno once more, and slowly drifted to the rod at his belt.</p><p>Tifa assumed the weight of his stare was becoming a bit uncomfortable for Reno, but he surprised her when he knelt down to Denzel’s level.</p><p>“You know, it’s pretty late. The bars’ closed and I’ve gotta get going. But I see you eyeing this baby,” he gave a small pat to the weapon at his side, and Denzel’s eyes lit up like a light bulb. “I’ll tell you what; you do exactly what Tifa asks of you, and I’ll let you give it a swing the next time I’m here.”</p><p>Denzel looked up at her for approval. The suggestion itself didn’t sit well with her on principle, but Reno’s offer to a child he had no connection with charmed her. She smiled softly and nodded her consent.</p><p>“It’s a deal.” His grin radiated as brightly as the glow from his sunburn. Without further hesitation, he turned on his heel to comply, padding back toward the steps and disappearing from view.</p><p>Reno straightened and turned to Tifa, the color from her cheeks slowly receding. “Looks like I’ve gotta come back to fulfill my end of the bargain.” </p><p>She merely nodded her acknowledgment.</p><p>The lull between them was suddenly awkward, the disruption from the kid setting the mood off kilter. Reno chose not to extend the discomfort for any longer than necessary and made his way to the exit.</p><p>He threw the locks and had the door ajar when he heard her approach, standing maybe a foot behind him. “Reno?”</p><p>Turning to face her, he just had enough time to breathe before she closed the distance, hands taking the sides of his face to pull him down, mouth rising to claim him. He reciprocated without thought, relinquishing his hold on the door and pulled her in. The taste of her he savored, burning it memory as crushed her against him. If not for the kid upstairs, he’d show her just how much he didn’t want to leave.</p><p>They stayed that way, just like that, for quite some time before the reminder of duties outside of her personal pleasures pulled her from his arms. His eyes, heavy and eager, seemed to plead for more. A step back from him dissolved some of the hunger from them, his signature grin concealing his obvious disappointment.</p><p>“See you tomorrow?” she asked coyly.</p><p>“See you tomorrow, Tifa.”</p><p>When the door closed behind him, she threw the locks in quick succession before rushing to the window and peering between the horizontal blinds.</p><p>Tifa saw him there, standing in the rain that had ebbed down to a drizzle, looking back at Seventh Heaven. Their eyes met through the illuminated darkness and shared a tender smile. He cast a final wave before he walked off, hands shoved into his pockets, and faded into the night.</p><p>Yes, she knew <em>exactly </em>what she wanted.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Different</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I wanted to make a few shouts outs. First, to the continued support of my beta for keeping me on the right path and popping in a suggestion every now and then to help the flow. Also to BouncyMouse, another ReTi author, who has acted as a sounding board for the last couple chapters. Additionally, I want to thank everyone who has read and especially taken the time to review and provide precious kudos. Because of all of you, it's given me the confidence to progress forward and avoid shelving my efforts. Thanks again and I hope you continue to enjoy this story. I'd say we are at the halfway point, but whose counting?</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Different</em>
</p><p>When the high dissolved, fear still managed to creep its way in.</p><p>Reno certainly surprised himself by opening up to her so easily. He descended into the endless gorge of his atrocities and dragged them to the surface. Much to his chagrin, he was unceremoniously tortured in his slumber. The drink typically shielded him with a blanket of darkness, but his night ended in vexatious sobriety. The deep crimson hue, the gasps and cries, the light that faded from their dying eyes - he remembered it all as it came to torment him scene by agonizing scene, the days he aimed to bury and forget. But he brought them to life, for her, so she could know exactly what she was getting herself into, by allying with the spawn of the Devil.</p><p>And as she stared into the black pit that is his soul, she did not stagger.</p><p>Tifa wanted him. When he returned the choice to her hands for her to make, the one he took away from her, the answer was more than clear. He owed it to her to see it through. More than ever, he was convinced he didn’t deserve her.</p><p>Such would not be an easy task as he considered the obstacles both internally and externally they would face. Like many things within Reno’s life, forward momentum with Tifa Lockhart would be damn near impossible to navigate, but he sure did enjoy a good gamble.</p><p>That didn’t mean he wasn’t daunted by the pressure of it all.</p><p>From the moment he’d set foot into Seventh Heaven the following evening, he felt as if everything had changed. No longer was he just the Turk that frequented the establishment for a drink and a laugh and a flirt at the barmaid behind the counter. Gone was the complete unpredictability of nabbing a female conquest to spend his primal pleasures on and toss back out into the wild. Nothing would be the same, and he wasn’t sure what he thought about that just yet. Things were so early, so new, that the ground where they stood was shaky at best. Rationale told him to avoid rocking the boat, but he also knew doing so could be half the fun.</p><p>The trepidation grew, doubt beating against his rib cage as he took to his usual stool and casually surveyed the bar. It had a considerable number of customers present that night, a stark contrast from the evening before. He noted the clouds’ submission to the sky was likely to thank for the increase of traffic. A repeated sight was Denzel, who was vigorously wiping tables free of residue and alcohol or whatever else may have been left behind. The boy hadn’t yet seen him through the hustle and bustle, but he was sure to take notice eventually.</p><p>A couple stools away, Marlene sat with a colored pencil clinched in her hand as she peered over at him with inquisitive eyes, her face pink with peeling skin. It amused him how she barely reached the top of the counter, her tiny frame stretching to crane over the edge, but seemingly undeterred by the added challenge. Her stare didn’t carry much more than general curiosity to which he found a sense of relief in.</p><p>Down the counter, he caught Tifa’s gentle and coy smile as she crossed the floor to him. Already popping the cap to his preferred brew, she pressed the chilled beverage into his open palm, fingertips generously grazing his knuckles. She was gone almost as quickly as she came, his eyes following the soft sway of her hips, noting how her pleated leather skirt and white top hugged her in all the right places.</p><p>That trepidation shifted just short of titillation.  </p><p>He spied Marlene again, who had moved on to her drawing from him, seemingly none the wiser to their exchange. There was no forgetting who she inevitably belonged to - the large, gun armed brute who’d happily turn his face into swiss cheese should he make one false move. He might as well have been on video surveillance with his kid within proximity, but Tifa didn’t seem bothered; in fact, her smile hadn’t left her mouth since she’d seen him.</p><p>Nothing felt quite right, and he really didn’t know what to make of any of it.</p><p>It wasn’t long before his little admirer had taken notice of his arrival, quick at his side with large blue eyes filled with wonder and expectation, abandoning his table duties for something much more interesting. Reno couldn’t hide the grin as he gazed down at the anxious youth. He remembered what it felt like the first time he’d taken a swing with his baton, too.</p><p>Quick instruction was given as Reno flicked the baton to full extension. He pressed the base into Denzel’s hand, sure to note to avoid the Electro-charge button at the handle. Marlene had torn her attention away from her creative endeavor to view the spectacle while Tifa, preoccupied in her bartending obligations, was too distracted to notice the tutorial.</p><p>Reno knew it was a questionable idea at best, especially in a bar with drunk, paying customers in a concentrated area. However, he’d made an agreement and he felt like he owed it to the kid to follow through. Additionally, he hadn’t really thought it through at all.</p><p>With a swing to his left followed by another to his right, Denzel’s smile couldn’t have been more radiant as he held fast to the baton with a white knuckled grip. The arc of his swipe sliced through the air with the fluidity of a natural wielder - or at least someone who was accustomed to swinging sticks. The kid had some finesse.</p><p>The sudden, sharp crackle of the electro-charge and its short blue ribbons of electricity pushed Reno’s reflexes into motion, snatching the baton away from Denzel before he made a move to accidentally do some real damage. The shock on the kids’ face was either the clear indication of a mistake or from the fear that embraced him upon handling the device's powerful electric emission. However, the sudden appearance of Tifa, brows knit as concern betrayed her stern facade, interrupted any correction he may have offered. Multiple sets of eyes fell upon the scene, the casual chatter disrupted by the current issue at hand.</p><p>“What happened?” The question was pointed at Reno who was returning the weapon to the clip at his belt.</p><p>“It was my fault,” Denzel admitted, a bit of shame painting his features. “I messed up and hit it by accident. I’m sorry.” </p><p>Something about the admission didn’t quite check out for Reno. He was a curious boy once and was a curious man at present. He was also familiar with the feeling of defiance, doing precisely what the omnipotent adults told you not to do. But he didn’t see Denzel as the defiant type in the malicious sense - curiosity simply got the best of him, and his embarrassment kept him from complete honesty.</p><p>Reno could sympathize.</p><p>Whatever admonishment she’d planned to administer fell away as she knelt down before him, hands at his shoulders. “You need to be careful. You could have hurt yourself or someone else, understand?”</p><p>He nodded ruefully; his expression solemn as Tifa stood. A small hint of annoyance framed her face as she stepped back behind the bar, time short between requests. He knew it was meant for him, and he couldn’t really fault her for it. Guilt seemed to come in all shapes and sizes, and Reno was experiencing a lesser known iteration of the parasite.</p><p>Marlene gazed sympathetically at Denzel as the patrons’ attention returned to their private discussions. Reno turned to look at the boy with a bit of a wry grin. “You know kid, the first time I picked up this baby, she electrocuted the hell out of me.”</p><p>The mortification slowly leaked from Denzel’s face as the small twitch of his lips curled upward. “Really?”</p><p>“What did it feel like?” Marlene asked, her legs kicking idly as she stared at the Turk for an answer. It had to have been the first and only words she’d ever spoken to him - he was surely becoming popular with the rugrats of Seventh Heaven.</p><p>Reno remembered it well and recounted the experience with clear imagery - the scent of searing hair and flesh, the vibration rattling his bones as spasms rippled through each and every muscle he possessed, from the top of his scalp down to the tips of his toes. Teeth chattered and eyes watered as the black faded in and out of his vision. The ache it left behind was excruciating, the taste in his mouth reminiscent of burnt metal. </p><p>He left out the part where he repeated the experience several more times thereafter.</p><p>The horror on Marlene’s face was evident, but the tale only seemed to brighten Denzel’s with further interest. The kid was destined to be a masochist.</p><p>The children were sent to bed not long after that, having had enough excitement for the evening. They gave the Turk a wave before departing into the upper part of the house, and he couldn’t help but wonder what this all meant in the grand scheme of everything else that transpired. </p><p>It was only yesterday he’d presented a piece of himself, revealing some of the darkest bits of his past to a woman determined to connect herself to him. Now he’d experienced two run-ins with her pseudo-son and Reno found himself playing the role of what could be considered the crazy uncle archetype. All too quickly his entire world was shifting into a more family friendly version, and the familiar panic that he faced too often throughout this predicament had reared its ugly head and demanded a full stop.</p><p>But he didn’t want to do that either.</p><p>What did he really want?</p><p>Reno wasn’t so certain anymore.</p><p>Operations eventually ended, and Tifa set off to send away the lingering customers and lock the door behind their exit. With the bar cleared, she became incredibly cognizant of the stringent uneasiness that filled the space between them. Her attention fell to Reno, adorned in his typical navy Turk suit, beer in hand still his first while the cigarette in his grip was not much more than a prop, burning away to its bud mostly of its own accord.</p><p>He surprised her initially, his interactions with the children more than cordial or necessary. Denzel’s reaction to him in particular could only be explained as mesmerized, captivated by everything about him, Shinra be damned. Moving forward, she knew he would do whatever he could to see the Turk, even if his toys were forbidden.</p><p>But it was after this that Reno’s aloofness thoroughly engulfed his persona. At the time, she didn’t have the time to pry, but if she were honest with herself, it had everything to do with her and their current situation. She knew Reno to be a man with closely held secrets pertaining to his inner demons and personal hardships and providing her even that small window into the crevices of his heart set him far out of his comfort zone. In accepting him for who and what he was, she’d hoped that would be enough. His current state however, told another story altogether.</p><p>The parallels were well and true, indeed.</p><p>Temporarily ignoring cleanup, she sat at the bar beside him. Alone together, they both seemed as uncertain as the other. He glanced at her in between staring off into the distance, lost in his thoughts as the glaze in his eyes indicated he’d left the building. It was also very clear that they were both painfully aware of how awkward their circumstance had become, and neither really knew how to break the ice.</p><p>“You’re pretty good with the kids.” Her voice, quiet and tender, appeared to break Reno from his thousand-yard stare. “I didn’t think you liked children.”</p><p>“Doesn’t this face just scream babysitter?” He smirked devilishly at her. A bit of the tension lifted from the ambiance as Tifa smiled in response. “Obviously my profession doesn’t exactly put me in the middle of schoolyards, but I can’t say I don’t like them. They’re little people who lack filters and find things like sticks and stickers fascinating.” He gave her a knowing grin. “And if you don’t watch them closely, they’ll find multiple ways to electrocute themselves.”</p><p>She looked at him pointedly, lips half curled. “Which reminds me…”</p><p>He waved a hand dismissively, “Yeah I know. Don’t let Denzel fry himself. Loud and clear.” The bud in his grasp had officially snuffed itself out, the wisps of smoke dissipating as the amber embers faded to grey. “How exactly did the kid...Denzel, land on your doorstep?”</p><p>Sorrow found her expression as she recalled the bittersweet memory. “He was at the Church, the one in Sector 5. He’d lost so much, just wandering before he found Cloud’s bike and phone. Called here, the business phone, just needing someone, anyone to reach out to. Cloud brought him home.”</p><p>Reno knew of such stories of wandering children with no home and no family to go to. Survival of the fittest became their reality, distrustful of the adults around them while simultaneously yearning for their affection. With the addition of Geostigma, many were in a seemingly hopeless situation. </p><p>He could relate on a personal level; a lifetime ago, one he never wanted to relive. “The casualties of Calamity...no one came out of that unscathed.” When he cast a gaze to Tifa, her eyes had become guarded, her frame rigid. “Hey, you all right?</p><p>“Yes, I’m fine,” she smiled, although it felt forced. “I’m just glad to give him a home. He’s become part of my life, like a son, I guess. I’d do anything for him.” </p><p>Ever the astute observer, he didn’t quite buy it. However, he preferred giving her the benefit of the doubt - the topic was heavy enough.</p><p>He created a bit of levity in its place. “And you let him around me to play with weapons? Might as well be raised by wolves, yo.”</p><p>Her mock dismay at his banter had him chuckling as she reached out to slap his arm. Through prior experience with her physical prowess in the battlefield, he knew she was holding back.</p><p>With the shake of her head, she directed another question at him. “What was it like, growing up for you?”</p><p>The query was innocent enough, but it instantly filled him with dread. His deep past was a place rarely visited, and for good reason. “You don’t want to know about that.”</p><p>Tifa fiddled with the wisps of her hair, averting her eyes from him as she did. “I do. You’ve told me about Shinra, some of your more subdued escapades that didn’t involve...some of the more volatile results. But I don’t know much about your past. You guys have a whole file on me.”</p><p>His leg shook as his finger tapped against his beer nervously. The subject was locked down and highly classified as far as he was concerned, privy to only himself and Shinra executives, the latter only because they made it their business to know. “It’s not pretty.”</p><p>The disappointment in her face was clear, accompanied by a sigh of defeat. “I see.  I understand.” </p><p>Another pang of guilt hit his gut, frustration rapping against his nerves. In the end, his desire to see her smile again won out. </p><p>“I had a sister,” he offered after a time, “A younger one.”</p><p>Interest lit up her features. “What was her name?”</p><p>Reno’s tone suddenly took on a softer quality. “Poppy. High maintenance, she was. Always on about those storybook fairy tales, fantasizing how someone was gonna save her.” His eyes darkened briefly but shook it off to continue, “When we were really young, she liked to play the damsel in distress, stowed in a tower or some other stupid shit like that. I always played the villain, per her request mind you, keeping her locked away until her Prince Charming, usually one of her stuffed toys, would come rescue her. Stuffed toys don’t talk, so I got to practice my ventriloquist act.”</p><p>That was the <em>good </em>memory. There were plenty others that weren’t so lighthearted, but those cards he kept close to his chest. Some things were better forgotten.</p><p>Tifa smiled at him. “Are you any good?”</p><p>“Probably to a five-year-old,” he replied sarcastically. “Been out of practice.”</p><p>“And... what happened to her?” The inquiry was cautious, delicately placed.</p><p>Matted orange hair and track lines. A shot rang and blood soaked everything.</p><p>“I don’t know.” Some things were better left unsaid.</p><p>The look on her face told him she didn’t believe him, and he didn’t care. “What about your parents?”</p><p>“What is this, twenty fucking questions?” he snapped. The bit of control he managed to maintain was slipping with her endless probing. There was also something about conflict that seemed to make this entire thing that much more manageable. He could easily deal with anger, rage, and push back. These tender exchanges were difficult to comfortably stomach, even if they felt right in the moment.</p><p>Tifa looked at him carefully. “I just want to know you.” The sadness in her voice made him regret everything.</p><p>“But you do know me - I’m an asshole.” Reno tried to jest but failed to sell it. He sighed, throwing his hand through his hair as he reached for his pack. He was out. <em>Fuck.</em></p><p>They’d made such progress, and suddenly it felt like they were walking backwards. It was awkward, their time together, but Reno knew he was to blame. Fear continued to creep in and cripple his sensibilities. He had no experience here - he could make a woman’s toes curl and get a man to squeal all of his secrets with a set of pliers. But when it came to this, he didn’t even know the first step. </p><p>Whether bored or stressed, he used all the same vices to alleviate every situation. Neither booze nor sex seemed to be adequate answers to this equation as he peered at Tifa beneath the low light, her eyes glistening with a faraway stare. He felt he was at an impasse, not sure what to do with himself.</p><p>So he did something that frightened him.</p><p>“Funny story. Rude and his ball and chain accused me of having intimacy issues.”</p><p>Tifa smirked, the previous unease slowly ebbing away. “I know a few people like that.” </p><p>Reno feigned surprise, a sharp gasp and a hand flying to his chest, “You mean I don’t have the monopoly on destructive emotional tendencies? And here I thought I was a special boy.” Her giggle relaxed him.</p><p>Their eyes locked, the understanding and warmth behind her burgundy irises felt as if they were reserved for him alone, and suddenly he was pleasantly overwhelmed by her. He just couldn’t shake the last few fragments of apprehension that hampered his forward progression. “Not even sure what that means, if I’m being honest here.”</p><p>Tifa looked off, playing with her nails as she so often did when her nerves began to get the best of her. “I would say you have trouble with expressing your emotions. You keep them hidden away.”</p><p>He scoffed. “Well hello pot; my names’ kettle.”</p><p>“I know, I shouldn’t talk,” she admitted, pressing her forearms to the bar top and leaning her weight against them. “It’s why I had such trouble with Cloud for so long. I couldn’t bring myself to just lay it all out there. I just hoped that he knew, that he saw what I was sacrificing, and if he did he would eventually see that I was the one for him, waiting for him.”</p><p>The turn of conversation struck him, giving rise to a green-eyed phenomenon that hit him like a brick to his chest. He trained his attention to his lighter, flicking the flame absently to maintain his focus. “And what about now?”<br/>
<br/>
“What do you mean?”</p><p>A question with a question. She knew exactly what he meant, and it frustrated him. “Do you still think and feel that way...now?”</p><p>She smiled, the glint in her eye hinting at a mischievous quality. “Oh Reno, don’t tell me you’re jealous?”</p><p>The inflection of her mockery pissed him right off. He hated little more than deflection, even if he was a prime offender. He wanted to brush the whole thing off, but he couldn’t deny the fear was real. “Do you?”</p><p>Her voice was steady and clear when she answered. “No...no I don’t.”</p><p>“You don’t sound too confident.” He was projecting and he knew it.</p><p>Tifa sighed, yet her patience remained steadfast. He probably didn’t deserve it. “He’ll always be something to me. But the time has passed for what I thought we were inevitably meant for. I think I’m meant for other things.” She glanced at the time to the wall across the counter, then back to Reno who had fallen perfectly still. “It’s getting late.”</p><p>Reno kept to his silence as she slipped from the stool and onto her feet with a muted thud of her boots. The conversation left him on shakier ground, sending him into a whirlwind of pessimism. He considered perhaps his subconscious wanted a reason to retreat, to simplify matters by finding alternative ways to sabotage their flourishing connection. The smart thing to do was to leave before he made it any worse. “Right. I’ll take off.” </p><p>As he hopped off from his seat, he found Tifa’s expression darken into a smoldering, heavy lidded stare. It left him frozen, invisible binds gripping him in place. “You know… you don’t have to be alone anymore. <em>We</em> don’t have to be alone anymore.”</p><p>She began her trek toward the steps, leaving him to witness her slow retreat.</p><p>Whatever despondent dribble he had been filling his own brain with swiftly found its way to the exit. He flipped through the pages of his mind for any reason why he shouldn’t answer the call, having now been presented with the option to either make a move or walk away. He realized then, within those precious seconds that he hesitated, he had effectively run out of excuses.</p><p>He followed.</p><p>Tifa quickly faded from his view before he even reached the stairs, his lingering trepidation impeding his movements. The journey up took him back to their last encounter there - hands and lips seeking each other through the darkness, stumbling about through potent inebriation. They were both painfully sober now, and any excuse to tuck tail and flee had disappeared with her unspoken invitation. If he was honest with himself, he was as eager as he was anxious. The combination was surreal, but so was everything else.</p><p>Through the dimness of the hall, Reno found a soft light spill from the only open doorway, and his heart skipped a beat. He hovered just short of the doorway as he considered his actions and decisions moving further in. What he would be accepting was no small ordeal. He was a simple man with simple needs, who exploited carnal pleasures for short term gains and rarely considered the long-term consequences they may produce. He’d left once to spare her of his rot, only to return and fall victim to her embrace. He thought of his partner then, how the radiance of his smile had illuminated the entirety of his visage and touched the darkest reaches of his guilty soul. Perhaps, if he allowed it, he could have that feeling, too.</p><p>She was sitting at the edge of her bed; hands gripping her knees, expression tight beneath the yellow glow. A lamp, the only active light source within the room, sat atop a nightstand, washing over the solid white bedspread and cast a luminous hue over her pale skin. The scent in the air was strikingly feminine, noting her familiar jasmine aroma that latched to his sensory the first time inhaled her unique fragrance. He was hard-pressed to forget it  </p><p>He needed her, he realized. It was a need far beyond the physical calling of his body’s natural desires, but a need to be more than killer, more than a philanderer, more than any other filthy, rotten name he could associate with himself. He just wanted to be <em>more</em>. He wanted to be <em>better.</em></p><p>For <em>her</em>.</p><p>As he shut the door behind him, Tifa stood up from the bed in anticipation. His steps toward her were painfully slow and deliberate, azure eyes penetrating as her pulse pumped and warmed her flesh so intensely, she feared she’d melt at his feet. He moved closer still and all she could think of was how this same moment disintegrated once before and left her a bit more broken. But this felt different, as he had every opportunity to walk away and stay away, to avoid future interaction and break apart anything and everything they had established thus far.</p><p>Reno soon came to stand before her, mere inches apart as he slipped his fingertips tenderly along her cheek, expression softer than she’d ever seen it before. She closed her eyes, lips parting, relishing in the delicate caress of his battle worn touch. They trailed a delicate path to her dark silken hair where he pushed back the fallen strands, curving around to the cove behind her ear to her neck. </p><p>With arms rigid at her sides, she fought to quell the tremble within. As much as she wanted to close the distance, fear coiled in her belly as she focused to steady her breath. “Why did you leave that night?”</p><p>The question took him off guard, but he couldn’t argue its validity. That night was impossible for him to forget, although part of him wished he could. The disappointment, despair, and desolation in her cries made him regret crossing that line. He had hoped to keep his distance, to save her from the monster that he was, but ultimately, he didn’t. He couldn’t.</p><p>Capturing her gaze, still and unwavering, he answered simply, honestly, the first time in a long time. Absent bravado or sarcasm, he spoke plainly. “To protect you from myself.”</p><p>She smiled a bit sadly at that. “Oh yes, always trying to protect me. I don’t need it.”</p><p>“You’re right - you don’t.” Reno took a small step forward, the closeness of their bodies a hair's breadth away. Her teeth came down on her lip, eyes large and peering upward as the heat of the moment rose in temperature, his suit becoming impossibly tight and strained. “But a lot has changed since then, hasn’t it?”</p><p>The intensity of their proximity held her in place as a familiar fire flared over her flesh and a gentle ache at the base of her abdomen began to stir. The tension remained thick with unspoken desires. “Has it?”</p><p>A sardonic smirk crossed his lips. “I guess, perhaps, I should show you.” </p><p>With a kiss to her lips, Reno closed the distance completely. His caress was gentle yet ever exploratory, slipping beneath her top as the thunderous beat of her heart echoed against her eardrums. She saw stars as her hunger grew and expanded, threatening to consume her as he took further liberties with his advances. Her pulse quickened when his thumb brushed the underside of her breast and she thought her knees would give. </p><p>Having sensed her failing equilibrium, he broke from her. Her breathless gasp and swollen lips only seemed to fuel the burning fire behind his eyes. “You want this, huh?” he asked with a teasing grin. His control waned, but the desire to hear her ask for it overwhelmed the fervent demand his body bellowed to proceed without it.</p><p>Claret eyes clouded with a lusty haze stared back at him. “Please, Reno.”</p><p>That was all he needed to hear.</p><p>His hands worked quickly, eagerly, as he reached for her tank to lift it from her. She followed his lead, shoving his goggles from his face and gripping the lapels of his blazer, pushing them from his shoulders. Reno let her this time, shaking it free. </p><p>They urgently slithered and squirmed out the rest - shirt, pants, skirt, everything - all the while doing what they could to touch, tease, caress one another with their lips and restless hands. Before long, they had fallen to the bed, and with his aid, Tifa shimmied out of the last of her garments. The cloth was tossed and forgotten as they took in the sight of the other, both fully bare and exposed. </p><p>The cool air sent a shiver over her body as she laid there, tinged with a pink tint, a full-bodied blush highlighting to her skin as she fidgeted uncomfortably from the exposure. She began to retreat internally, painfully apprehensive. How did she compare to the others? The thought was toxic, but its existence was real enough for her to want to hide from him. So certain only moments ago, she felt fear grip at her like a vice, choking her. Eyes drifted everywhere but him, a swift bout of embarrassment coming to take her under as she reached her arms across her chest.</p><p>His expression was strikingly calm, his gaze roving of her body in silent appreciation. When he gently guided her arms away from her protective embrace and his lips softly brushed against her own, the walls she’d erected came down with it.</p><p>Tifa trusted him.</p><p>The kiss deepened, from a nibble at her lip to the sweep of his tongue. Her heart pumped with irregularity, threatening to burst free as she boldly pressed her palms flat against his chest.  His firm, sinewy muscles beneath his skin responded to her anxious touch, carrying her exploration to his stomach, clenching tight beneath her, and past his waist to delicately graze his arousal. Hips jerked involuntarily as a guttural sound tore from his throat. She wanted him, she <em>needed </em>him.</p><p>His hand trailed a delicate path down her body, brushing tenderly at her breast, the curve of her waist. His ministrations left her dizzy, all previous anxiety gone, her lingering inhibitions dissipated. She was there in the moment, aching and needy and restless.</p><p>And when his hand dragged along her pelvis to finally dip between her legs, her sharp cry of pleasure surprised her. Her breath caught in her lungs as her mouth fell wide as the pressure mounted, the pool of heat building. Lips took to her throat, teeth grazing at her skin. She was suffocating, mouth gaping and closing, eyelids fluttering, gasping for air. Her hands clawed at her chest, and a low growl rumbled from above.</p><p>Tifa was utterly consumed, close to an edge she didn’t want to reach alone.</p><p>When she finally begged for him, tears in her eyes and his name on her tongue like a chant, Reno moved like a panther, looming over. Eyes alight with an impassioned voracity, he gently buried himself between her legs, his sharp moan melding with her feverish song.</p><p>The only sensation, all that mattered was their current existence, their shared frozen moment punctuated by long, languid strokes that slowly increased in tempo, a flood pounding against the dam. Tifa bucked against him over and over, pleading for him to go deeper, faster, legs wrapped around his waist to take him in.</p><p>And he obeyed her every request, her name on the lips that pressed against her cheek, her hair, her mouth. Enthralled by the sounds of her voice that carried his name, by the way her body moved and flexed beneath his own.</p><p>Reno was on fire, blissfully burning asunder in the flames.</p><p>They lost themselves in the rhythm, each hanging by a thread of control, relishing in the warm friction. Words tumbled unintelligible. Lips crashed together, greedy and eager. They couldn’t get close enough, clinging and grasping, swallowing moans that threatened to burst forth and shake the ground. </p><p>Reno felt Tifa quiver around him, her body on the cusp of convulsions as she mewled helplessly against his mouth. He pulled away to watch her, to witness her release as she gave into the swell of ecstasy.</p><p>The dam broke wide open, and she arched her back as the flood engulfed her, lips parted as she writhed with the vibration with a soundless cry. The warm constriction destroyed his lingering restraint, reduced to expletives and a series of tremors that she graciously held him through to completion. As their breathing normalized, their pulses dropping to a steady beat, they remained together far beyond the ripple of euphoria.</p><p>Reno reluctantly pulled himself from her embrace, kissing her forehead before rolling himself onto his back beside her. Without hesitation, he pulled her against him, her cheek to his chest and legs entwined. The length of her was crushed to his side, and he absently traced the pads of his fingers along the arm that curved across his abdomen.</p><p>Everything was different. Deep in his heart, what they shared was far more consequential and genuine than any experience from his past. He understood the difference now, between a casual encounter and one laced with emotional weight. It rocked him to his core and spilled all that he was and all that he wanted. It was a defining moment; one he knew he couldn’t eloquently express. What it all meant now, he wasn’t too sure, but it was definitely <em>something</em>.</p><p>“My mother is dead,” he said suddenly, quietly. “She’s been dead for a long time.” </p><p>Blunt and abrupt, it was another piece of himself he offered to her, willingly.   </p><p>Tifa, who had been mindlessly drawing circles and shapes along his side, equally lost in her own reverie, gave a small frown to the sudden information. “I’m sorry. Mine too.”</p><p>He grinned. “Yeah, your file.”</p><p>The shift against him suggested she was smirking. “Father?”</p><p>“Same.”</p><p>“And you don’t know about your sister?”</p><p>He paused and considered, but ultimately knew the tale was too dark for a post-coital recollection. “I do. But...another time, alright?”</p><p>She nodded, tightening her arms’ grip around him. “Okay.”</p><p>They laid there for a while in comfortable silence. In previous circumstances, Reno would have easily torn himself away from the scene, never to linger past the point of gratification. But there he was, bathing in the afterglow with Tifa curled into his side, cheek to his chest as she fell under the spell of slumber, her body relaxing, melting into the mattress, into him. </p><p>The smart thing to do would be to leave before the morning light, but instead, he held her closer, settling against the pillows at his back and allowed himself to take full advantage in a revelry he’d never known before, but hoped to know again.</p><p>With her.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Secret</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Secret </em>
</p><p>Hazy vision calibrated to the increasing luminosity of the room, courtesy of the early morning light.</p><p>Tifa was the first to stir, stiff and rigid yet warm and secure within Reno’s arms; one lay loose around her waist, fingers splayed across the small of her back while the other rested against her hip. They never made it beneath the covers, their bodies bare and entangled in the lazy embrace. </p><p>Carefully, she rose her head from his chest to peer into his unconscious face. With mouth slightly agape and an audible rumble of a gentle snore, she realized they had come a long way from being two people on opposite sides of the aisle to lovers, vulnerable and entwined together. She found herself struggling to wrap her head around the chain of events that led to that moment, but whatever led them there had her reveling in the aftermath.</p><p>Still, she felt rather sheepish in her current state of undress despite their closeness, and carefully slipped out of his arms and onto her feet. To her relief, he remained unchanged, deep within his sleep as she padded quietly across the room to the bathroom where she tossed a cream bathrobe through her arms and tied it snugly at her waist. The plush fabric reached her knees, its collar hugging her neck to plunge partway down her chest, keeping her frame modestly covered. </p><p>She peered briefly into the mirror to take in her reflection, only to discover an extraordinarily bright smile splitting it wide. All seemed impossibly perfect in the afterglow of their passion. To think things morphed from the random bud of a one-night encounter to the bloom of a deep connection she’d never have considered, even in her wildest dreams. </p><p>Returning to his bedside, she observed Reno fondly as he appeared quite innocuous and far less feral while unconscious. He’d softened considerably during the time she’d truly gotten to know him, stripping back the rough exterior layers to discover a man who just wanted to know he was worth something to someone, a man who desperately wanted to lift the weight from a dark past and create a different future. She silently wondered if she could successfully help him achieve it as there was still so much to ponder within this new chapter - her friends, her family, the children…</p><p>The <em>children</em>.</p><p>An alarm resounded in her head as she swiftly carried herself to the door, pulling it open just enough to survey the hall. She managed to slow her irregular pulse as she zeroed in on the children’s closed door, taking note they may not have awoken just yet. </p><p>Shutting the door, she realized there were certain truths she wasn’t ready to display. The predicament was awfully fragile, and she would have to handle it with the utmost care if certain parties were going to be privy to her current entanglement. Some would be harder to deal with than others, but she feared that once the children had a clue, it would spread like an uncontrollable wildfire she’d be unable to contain. </p><p>She had to proceed with caution.</p><p>Rushing back to his side, Tifa half climbed into the bed, her knee supporting her weight against the mattress as the tips of her toes on her opposite foot remained steady against the floor. She gently shook Reno at his shoulders, who grumbled and swatted at her arms reflexively. The motion was enough to rouse him at least, lids peeling back from his drowsy lens. </p><p>Upon seeing her, hair fanning around her face in a sort of dark ethereal halo, he grinned smugly, stretching the length of him like a feline, seemingly unabashed by his nudity. “Hey babe. Looking for round two? My morning wood looks to be on point this morning.”</p><p>A blush turned her cheeks scarlet as she instinctively cast a glance below his waist to witness that he was indeed at full attention. She closed her eyes and shook her head to clear her mind of the sudden inclination to accept. “You can’t stay here. You have to go.”</p><p>A slight frown creased his brows, raising himself to his elbows as she pulled back from her hover over him. “And good morning to you. Was my performance not up to par for your standards?”</p><p>She rolled her eyes as the flaming hue of her face intensified. “It’s not that. I didn’t think about what happens after…” she trailed off, clearly hesitating. She looked toward the door and back to Reno, who was slowly descending into something between agitation and impatience. “The kids can’t know right now.”</p><p>“Huh.” Something stirred in her gut as she watched him sit up. He ran a hand through his tousled hair, his features growing gradually pensive as the seconds ticked onward. “Getting cold feet already?”</p><p>Internally, she chastised herself for expressing her requests so callously. Things were just as fragile with him as they were her family unit and she had no intentions of chasing him away.</p><p>Tifa pushed forward to assuage his fears, slipping her hand behind his neck and kissing his mouth. His response was immediate, arms locking around her waist to pull her toward him as he flopped backward against the pillows. Momentarily entranced, she allowed her weight to be carried onto his body, her knees straddling his leg where his need pressed solidly against her thigh. His advances nearly short circuited her brain and rebooted her current resolve.</p><p>Breaking from the kiss, she pressed her hands to his chest to create ample distance between them, her back curving away from him. His grip loosened reluctantly, letting her pull back, but the desire in his eyes was transparent. “It’s not you, it’s not them - it’s who they’ll tell. And I have to be the one who does it, and very carefully. Please understand.”</p><p>Silence took the room as he worked through the implication. It wasn’t a difficult puzzle to put together, consisting of only a few pieces that linked together. </p><p>When the tension finally drained from his face, he grinned wryly at her, smoothing a thumb across her bottom lip that sent a shockwave to her core. “You could have started with that.” He placed a chaste kiss to her cheek before abandoning the bed altogether, sliding out from beneath her and moving through the room to scoop up his scattered clothing. “I’ll be a good boy and skedaddle.”</p><p>“Thank you,” she said quietly, moving off the mattress and onto her feet.</p><p>Reno pulled on his boxers and trousers, securing the buckle across his trim waist as Tifa took to the view with veiled interest. In truth, she didn’t want to see him go at all, but the explanation to Denzel and Marlene was too much for her to stomach just then, and she didn’t look forward to the song and dance she’d have to perform to hide it should they catch suspicion. This was the easiest path now, even if it wasn't ideal or preferred.</p><p>Crossing the room to reach the door, she felt his hand clasp over her wrist and spin her around into his bare chest. Her footing was lost, but he was ready for it, steadying her against his frame while holding firm to his shirt and blazer. “Seriously though... you aren’t regretting things, are ya?”</p><p>The inquiry was sincere, his features soft and inquisitive along with a touch of what appeared to be a bit of worry. They were traversing uncharted waters, both relatively inexperienced in what it meant to move forward, and it was only natural that he would question her current actions. She would have likely done the very same thing.</p><p>Tifa smiled reassuringly, her free hand grazing his side. The skin beneath her touch shivered upon contact as the grip at her wrist moved to her backside. “Not at all. I just have to be delicate with this.”</p><p>She attempted to pull away, but his grip held fast and insistent. A hungry haze spread across his eyes and she fought against the rising temptation to let him consume her again. “You sure I can’t interest you in another…?” he jerked his head back toward the direction of the bed.</p><p>With a grin, she shook her head and placed a quick kiss to his collarbone, which was rewarded with a groan of approval. “Another time.”</p><p>“Like tonight, another time?” His voice was thick with it now.</p><p>Again, she attempted to break free, but he was unrelenting. She flashed a tight smile. “We’ll see. For now, you have a walk of shame ahead of you.” </p><p>He squeezed her posterior cheek through the robe, and she considered falling prey to the temptation he presented. “Come on, give a dog a bone. Just standing here is giving me blue balls.”</p><p>Summoning the last of her willpower, she gave him a playful shove, which was enough to disengage from him and release some of the building sexual tension between them. “Get out!”</p><p>Reno threw up his arms in surrender, chuckling as he took a stumble backward. “Alright, alright. I know when I’m not wanted.” His impish grin alleviated any fears of hard feelings as he tossed on the remainder of his clothing and scooped up his shoes in hand. When she glanced questioningly at him, he shrugged, “If I’m sneakin’ out of here, it’s a lot easier to hide the noise barefoot.”</p><p>Nodding her understanding, Tifa opened the door to peek down the hall again. Upon spying the coast was clear, she waved at Reno to follow and moved toward the stairs, footfalls light with careful discretion of their placement. </p><p>Coming to the ground floor, Reno stepped into his footwear as she took a quick look around to find the mess from the previous night was happy to greet her. Detaching from the stress of the inevitable undertaking, she approached the door and proceeded to turn the locks.</p><p>Warm, inviting hands found their way around her waist as she gripped to the doorknob, one finding the flesh between the folds of her robe to delicately brush the space between her thighs. Her teeth found her bottom lip, biting into it as she strived to control the weakness that followed. His lips found the crook of her neck, nuzzling eagerly into her tender flesh and she nearly submitted to his erotic hypnosis.</p><p>“Stop, Reno,” she breathed, although the husk of her tone betrayed the truth of her request.</p><p>“Mm, but I don’t think you want me to,” he replied, his voice like velvet against her ear.</p><p>“Please…” she pleaded, desperate to separate from his ministrations that equally threatened to cloud her vision and judgment. Time was of the essence and falling into the arms of lust was simply unacceptable no matter how much she burned for him.</p><p>And just like that, he released her, stepping back to shove his hands into his pockets with a smirk of purely feigned innocence. “If you say so.”</p><p>Taking a moment to collect herself, she turned the knob and pulled open the door. Her gaze followed him as he sauntered through, only to stop and lean his shoulder against the door frame. Reaching into his blazer pocket, he pulled out his phone and flipped it open. After pressing a series of buttons, he handed the device to her. “I think we might be past the point where I take a ladies’ number, but better late than never.”</p><p>It hadn’t occurred to her that they hadn’t officially shared such information with each other before. There was obviously the number to the bar which was public knowledge, but this exchange was meant to be much more personal and intimate - another step forward.</p><p>Tifa took the phone and punched in her digits, a small smile taking residence. When she handed the phone back to him, his fingers clasped around her wrist again, but this time the gesture was loose and delicate. She acquiesced to his touch, allowing him to guide her close to bestow a final, gentle kiss to her lips. Her heart sang the sweetest of melodies, and as he pulled away, she yearned for his return. </p><p>Releasing her, he took the phone in hand and shoved it away into his pocket. She regarded him coyly, hanging on the door. </p><p>“See you later?” she asked, hopeful.</p><p>“Oh, you betcha,” he replied with a wink.</p><p>Without another word, he walked off into the morning with a whistle on his lips. With great effort, she shut the door behind him before she gave into the urge to call him back. </p><p>Turning, she pressed her back against the door, mind reeling and pulse thumping. The feeling was reminiscent of a schoolgirl gushing over a schoolyard crush, and Tifa felt her face strain with the smile that radiated through and through.</p><p>Nightfall couldn’t come fast enough.</p>
<hr/><p>Despite the swift kick out into cold morning dew, Reno felt utterly invincible in the aftermath of his night. Forgoing his own vehicle - still parked at his apartment complex -  for a cab for quicker passage, he hailed the transport. Its luminescent triangular signal atop the car flickered behind bold black text as he promised an extra gil or two to lead-foot it all the way to his destination. </p><p>So this is what Cloud 9 felt like. </p><p>His mind drifted briefly to his last moments with her, the final kiss before his departure. While efforts at seduction had failed him, he couldn’t blame Tifa for her nervousness surrounding the kids. Things felt as if they were barreling forward and despite how much Denzel and Marlene had experienced in their short lifespans, another sudden upheaval in routine could very well spiral the delicate balance they already had. </p><p>She faced another challenge; one he simply couldn’t relate to pertaining to the rest of her inner circle. He couldn’t honestly care less about whether they approved of their intimate rapport, but it was unrealistic of him to expect her not to as well. He knew he would have to employ a bit of patience and restraint, yet as her image crossed his mindscape, he also knew doing so would be a feat, and Reno wasn’t one to hold back.</p><p>Squealing tires and shouting pedestrians weren’t enough to deter his drivers’ speedy pace or sour the Turks’ jovial mood. The grin plastered to his countenance was nearly unflappable, even as his driver extended a shaking palm to accept his payment for likely infuriating every driver within the city once they screeched to a halt outside of the Shinra High rise. </p><p>Producing several notes from his wallet, he slapped the currency into the awaiting hand and just about glided out of the vehicle. He knew the suit in all probability terrified the gentleman, taking to Reno’s direction purely out of fear of consequences should he object, but the sizable tip was sure to alleviate some of the terror from the experience. There was a time he relished the idea that he struck fear in the hearts of men and women alike, that the general public would risk death to cross a street sooner than to walk his path. But those days were long behind him now and they no longer brought such satisfaction. There were far greater pleasures to seek out, and he was still basking in the glow of at least one of them.</p><p>The whistle didn’t seem to falter in tune as Reno waltzed through the doors of Shinra Headquarters. He passed reception with a mock salute, the employees surrounding the crescent shaped desk taking notice and descending into curious whispers as he pressed his thumb for the elevator. The door swished open, and with the swipe of his Shinra badge with a zestful flare, he rode it to the fifteenth floor. Energy was suddenly boundless, skin tingling with the buzz of good fortune as he practically skipped through the opened doors after the resounding <em>ding</em> at his desired destination.</p><p>Heels clicked against freshly polished flooring through the hall as he passed by several transparent offices, most unutilized. He always noted how the apple didn’t fall far from the tree as he traversed these halls; the design sleek, lavish, and filled with empty space. Yet even with such a spacious floor plan, he was still required to share an office with his fellow Turks. Not that he minded as close quarters made it that much easier to <em>delegate</em> his work to others.</p><p>He was intercepted before he reached the office, Tseng seemingly appearing out of thin air from around the corner. The man knew how to veil the sound of his footsteps even against such an echoing atmosphere.</p><p>“Reno. You’re early,” Tseng remarked with a touch of genuine surprise.</p><p>“I was in the neighborhood,” Reno grinned with a shrug.</p><p>Tseng appeared skeptical, a single brow rising in suspicion. “I see.” A few beats passed, and Reno awaited a jab at his unusual punctuality. </p><p>“Come with me.” Tseng said instead, turning on his heel with Reno close behind, leading them down the hall opposite the elevator.</p><p>Unlike the other spaces he passed upon his entrance, Tseng’s office lacked transparency - walls thick and soundproof for sensitive conversations and scathing reprimands. Reno was not unfamiliar with either scenario.</p><p>He plopped into the chair directly in front of Tseng’s neatly pristine mahogany desk. His heels kicked up onto the corner as he grinned, weaving his fingers behind his neck and leaning back comfortably. Tseng sank down into his seat with an assertive grace only he could muster and took a wooden ruler from the drawer to his left. With it, he shoved Reno’s shoes from the surface where they fell heavily to the floor.</p><p>The grin only widened further, having expected the predictable move. “Sorry, boss. Force of habit.”</p><p>Setting the ruler aside, Tseng folded his hands in front of him as he looked upon his subordinate with quiet authority, seemingly ignoring the apology to get right to the meat of the matter. “As you know, Rude is leaving us.”</p><p>“Breaks my heart,” Reno mused, but there was a certain amount of truth within the jest.</p><p>“It will create quite the void,” Tseng admitted. “Are you looking to follow?”</p><p>He supposed such a question wasn’t out of the ordinary. The two had been damn near inseparable since their first mission together, working in tandem with such ease and finesse that little communication was ever required. Rude’s departure was likely to set many things completely off balance for him and the department, and Reno wasn’t quite certain how they posed to stabilize it just yet. “Hadn’t really considered it, but good ol’ Rufus doesn’t seem to mind given the most recent contract.”</p><p>Tseng fell silent for a moment, long enough for Reno’s suspicions to perk. “There is a reason for this; the President is looking to test for loyalty.”</p><p>Reno scoffed, his leg bouncing as he moved his hands from his neck to drum his fingers against the armrests. “Sounds like him. Just don’t tell me he’s looking toward World Domination again.”</p><p>A stoic expression settled on Tseng’s visage as he regarded him shrewdly. “And if he is?”</p><p>Reno didn’t like where this was going and wasn’t fond of these kinds of games Tseng sometimes played, preferring a much more direct approach to enigmatic allusions. A gentle narrow of his eyes made this perfectly clear, searching meticulously for any number of his boss’ tells, but he managed to hide every one of them. “Boss, get real. Rufus nearly croaked twice because of our shenanigans. I thought we were all about atoning and shit. You’re telling me we’re gonna do another 180?”</p><p>Tseng smirked, dark eyes cool under Reno’s scrutiny. “Of all people, I hadn’t thought you’d feel so...passionate about our new role in the world.”</p><p>Within that moment, Reno realized just how staunchly he felt about forgiveness, about redemption. It was no longer just to alleviate the pain in his chest or the nightmarish visions that haunted him like a looped projection, but to prove to himself and to <em>her </em>that he was capable of being a different man. “Yeah well, I’ve had my fill of silver-haired freaks to last the next few lifetimes, so excuse me if I tread with a bit of caution these days.”</p><p>“Thankfully, his plans aren’t quite so ambitious.” Even Tseng was hard-pressed to not acknowledge how treacherous the past few years had been due to previous ventures. “He simply wants to govern Edge.”</p><p>Reno didn’t hide the slight surprise that flickered in his eyes and tensed his jaw. “Abandoning the energy biz for politics? That’s why he’s giving those who want out a doorway?”</p><p>Tseng simply nodded.</p><p>“And we’re what? His armed security?”</p><p>“Among other things, for now,” he answered evenly. “All other staff, should they remain, will be integrated into either a different role altogether, or they will be tweaked to satisfy Governmental requirements. Since WRO has adequately expanded its Energy operations through the Presidents’ funding, it provides him opportunity to pursue other avenues.”</p><p>A frown creased Reno’s brow as he absorbed the information, “You actually think the people are gonna welcome him with open arms? They begrudgingly tolerate our presence now.” He thought back to his cab driver that morning, fear dancing in his eyes, a shudder visibly jarring his robust frame as gil exchanged hands.</p><p>Tseng shrugged. “With WRO’s support, why not?”</p><p>Money and power - the two were always closely related. Find one, and the other almost inevitably would follow. It all clicked together for Reno now; Rufus wasn’t getting fucked over at all - he <em>planned</em> it this way. “Fuck...did we seriously <em>bribe</em> Reeve for a power grab?”</p><p>“It is small compensation for what has been provided thus far,” Tseng’s visage remained unchanged.</p><p>“You believe that?”</p><p>Silence permeated through the office, a heavy blanket of unease weighing over the office. Reno didn’t miss the rapid blink from his boss, a crack in the otherwise impassive facade.</p><p>“My loyalty remains with the President and his ambitions, whatever they may be. I assume you feel the same.”</p><p>No answer came from the Turk as he roved over what all of this meant. While Rufus’ methods weren’t exactly scrupulous, he wondered if perhaps he believed he would do the city some good as its official leader, to aim his laser focus on a more concentrated effort for true and direct change instead of throwing money at the problem while hoping such an act would absolve him of the guilt he carried toward the worlds’ degradation. Midgar residents suffered the most, bearing the brunt of those efforts and their kind was responsible for all of it - they owed them everything.</p><p>Tseng spoke up suddenly, his voice smooth as silk even as it penetrated and broke through Reno’s thoughts. “If it makes you feel any better, WRO will be applying a series of checks and balances to ensure the President doesn’t become, how do you say, <em>rapacious</em>.”</p><p>“Probably a good idea. I guess Reeve isn’t as dumb as I thought.” He stilled his hands, clutching to the armrests instead. The drumming had become loud and distracting.</p><p>“Reno…” Tseng began, an uncharacteristic softness to his tone as he leaned in, “Between you and me, I am not looking to repeat the past, either. Perhaps, this is <em>our </em>way of atoning.”</p><p>The glint in his eye revealed more than words ever could, and Reno understood perfectly. Tseng was just as cautious as he was regarding the Presidents’ motives, his own guilt weighing heavily against him. Afterall, he was unceremoniously slashed by Sephiroth, left to die in the Temple of the Ancients and tortured by the Remnants. He had just as much to fear and lose as any of the rest of them when it came to repeating history.</p><p>“How does Elena feel about all of this?” he asked. She too, suffered greatly and still bore the scars to prove it.</p><p>“She will support The President, and us, in this endeavor.” </p><p>The grip he had relaxed somewhat, his fidgeting downgrading to a simple tap of his toes. “Does Rude know?”</p><p>“I imagine if he did, so would you. But this will be shared with him as well, either by myself or his inevitable new employer.” Tseng leaned back then, a signal that further discussion would range within casual territory. “I failed to ask him this when he was providing his resignation but...do you know <em>why?</em>”</p><p>Reno smirked. “Couldn’t you just ask him yourself?”</p><p>Arms folded at his chest. “I could, but I’m not.”</p><p>Given the previous subject, Reno knew a few simple words would fulfill his curiosity, “Guilt runs deep.”</p><p>The prediction was correct. “What about for you?”</p><p>Good question; one he wasn’t open to answering with any specific detail, but there was difficulty in reeling back the smile that spread. His response was smug. “I’ve obtained other ways of coping.”</p><p>Tseng angled his head. “The standard ways?”</p><p>“Not quite - I guess you could say they’ve been modified,” he replied cryptically, a generous yawn escaping his open mouth. “That all, boss?”</p><p>“Quite. You’re dismissed,” Tseng answered, waving a hand in the direction of the door.</p><p>Reno jumped to his feet and made his way to the exit. The initial foreboding that bloomed at the start of the conversation had settled rock solid at the base of his abdomen. They faced a delicate balance of keeping the President in check while supporting his vivacious appetite for power. He kept his continued reservations hidden behind a smirk, but he was somewhat troubled by the whole thing.   </p><p>As his hand reached for the knob, he heard Tseng stand behind him. “Reno?”</p><p>He looked over his shoulder. “Yes, dear?”</p><p>Tseng didn’t seem to react or notice Reno’s attempt at getting his goad. “Have you gotten your...<em> issue </em>sorted?”</p><p>He wondered when the subject of his dour disposition would arise, all having carefully skirted around it. The newfound pep in his step evidently suggested improvement but he surmised, like always, Tseng wanted verbal confirmation. “Sure have, boss.”</p><p>“Good,” he replied. “One more complaint about your surly attitude and I was putting you on probation.”</p><p>It amused him greatly that the man still thought threats of such caliber would shake him. “Promise?”</p><p>Tseng rolled his eyes, breaking his typically composed bravado. “Go.”</p><p>Reno flashed a toothy grin as he slipped from the room and into the hall where his thoughts were suddenly consumed by life beyond the Turks, beyond Shinra, and trailed to much more tantalizing realities. </p><p>The end of the workday simply couldn’t come fast enough.</p>
<hr/><p>The morning ticked by unhurriedly for Tifa. From sending the children to school to tending to the neglected clean up from the previous night and restocking depleted supplies, she sought to distract herself from the gradual flurry of uncertainty that was dead set on disrupting her psyche. </p><p>They couldn’t remain a secret - not for long, not forever.</p><p>It took the course of several hours for doubt to cast shadows over her suddenly reeling mind. Her reverie dipped in and out of the warmth of the not so distant memory of his embrace and the rippling exhilaration that resulted from their intimate liaison. Yet with it also came the persistent gnaw of certain truths she thought she had managed to move past. She was painfully aware of the potential consequences of their continued connection and certain things were simply unavoidable. Eventually, there would be no choice but to face them head on. </p><p>A late afternoon phone call from Barret presented her with the opportunity to put it all to bed then and there.</p><p>Marlene was the first to speak with him, chatting excitedly about her days at school, the things she’s learned, and the friends she had. The phone soon moved to Denzel, who gushed about his work as ‘man of the house’, a title he carried proudly. The chore of her prep before open kept her occupied as did the growing dread of her inevitable reveal, so much so she was blind to the upcoming third degree her old friend read her.</p><p>In his frenzied fascination with the Turk and his encounters with him, Denzel had managed to raise Barret’s Shinra alarm bells and naturally set to questioning exactly <em>what </em>she was thinking to allow such lowlife clientele to speak to the children, let alone allow them to play with <em>weapons</em>. </p><p>Procrastinating could be dangerous, she knew all too well, but her belly flipped and tumbled its way to dread. It kept her silent, assuring the man there was nothing to fear and that such an event would never transpire again. If he had planned to scold her further, the opportunity was lost, called upon by another voice in the background. Granted with a gruff goodbye, the call ended, but the tremor in her heart had just begun.</p><p>The conversation greatly disturbed her, his inquiry haunting her well into the evening that followed:</p><p>
  <em>How could you even consider getting chummy with a Turk?! </em>
</p><p>And as that Turk strolled through the door, true to his earlier word, the knot in her gut pulled taut against her spine as she acknowledged him with a pleasantly forced smile.</p><p>A torrid of emotions washed over her then as she retrieved a Cosmo brew from the fridge, feeling his eyes follow her every move. The cap gave easily, and she pressed the chilled bottle into his awaiting palm. She hadn’t realized she’d avoided his gaze until he grabbed her fleeting hand, snapping her to attention as she turned to face him.</p><p>“Hey, what’s eating you?” Reno asked, quiet and guarded.</p><p>The grip to her hand eased and she quickly, nervously, tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Nothing, I’m just a bit tired.”</p><p>His gaze was heavy and piercing, skeptical. “You sure that’s all it is?”</p><p>“Yes, of course,” she lied.</p><p>“I don’t believe you,” he stated bluntly, taking a swig from his beer.</p><p>Tifa knew better; his ability to accurately perceive his surroundings was impeccable, the ability to read others even more impressive, and she was silly to think he wouldn’t see through the act. “Don’t worry about it.”</p><p>Reno scoffed, agitated. “We’ll talk about it later. You’ve got <em>customers</em>.”</p><p>The guilt in her eye wasn’t enough to provide an honest answer, and it certainly wasn’t enough to keep her from walking away from him. But he let her for now, settling on mulling over her sudden change in demeanor. </p><p>While their morning together was mostly reassuring, it was clear that worry seeped in to disturb the mood, and it wasn’t difficult to understand why; Reno and his kind did not have a shiny past with her inner circle, and having a public relationship with a Turk was bound to attract all kinds of scrutiny. Perhaps it was naive of him to assume she put any real thought or consideration into what she was asking for. </p><p>They’d come so far, yet the temptation to walk back out the door loomed in the distance, relieving her of the impossible task ahead. But she chose him, she <em>wanted </em>him, just as he wanted her, and he couldn’t walk away now.</p><p>Business eventually slowed to a crawl, and Tifa took the opportunity to close the doors early. Pulling the blinds and flipping the sign, she resigned herself to clutter collection. Making her way across the floor, she discarded empty bottles and gathered dishes and glasses that had been left behind.</p><p>Reno observed her efforts, a bit of a dark cloud penetrating her otherwise vibrant aura; she was so far away from him. </p><p>Once behind the bar, she dumped glasses and dishes into the sink and proceeded to turn the faucet and start the wash, all the while avoiding his gaze.</p><p>“Seems like every time I come by, one of us is locked up tight in our own heads,” Reno quipped.</p><p>Tifa kept her attention averted to her task, sighing. “I’m fine, I told you.”</p><p>Reno remained unconvinced, reaching for his newly purchased pack for a smoke, only to think better of it and abstain. “I’m not sure if anyone has told you this, but you’re a terrible liar, yo.”</p><p>She redoubled her focus to the sink, scrubbing a tumbler a bit more harshly than necessary. </p><p>“If this is gonna work,” he began, a thumb tapping against the counter, “you’ve gotta talk to me. I can’t be fishing through that mind of yours only to be slapped over a misunderstanding.”</p><p>At last, she looked up at him, visibly distressed as she slumped her shoulders forward, lowering the rag and tumbler in hand. “Barret called this afternoon. He became quite upset at me for letting Denzel...interact with you.”</p><p>It took long enough, but at least they were at the crux of the issue that was troubling her. Reno assumed that should have pissed him off, but he was unmoved by the confession. “Denzel ain’t his kid.”</p><p>She frowned. “No, but Marlene is.”</p><p>“And?”</p><p>“<em>And </em>he seems to be doubting my judgment right now.”</p><p>Reno paused a moment to choose his words carefully. “Are <em>you</em> doubting your judgment?”</p><p>Tifa’s answer was immediate, almost defensive, which relieved him to some degree. “No, of course not. But… he hates Shinra, still. Maybe not as much as he used to, but there’s still a lot of bad blood.”</p><p>“I see.” </p><p>Time passed as Tifa returned her attention to the tumbler - the same painfully clean tumbler - and mindlessly cleansed away regardless. He watched the scene uncomfortably, knowing the storm that brewed within was not something to be easily quelled. This one would take extra patience.</p><p>“Did you tell him about us?” Reno asked curiously, disrupting the lull.</p><p>Tifa shook her head. “I couldn’t. He was so angry. It’s not the right time.”</p><p>He chuckled facetiously. “Honestly Tifa, I don’t give two shits whether he knows or not, but you seem to.”</p><p>She pursed her lips, appearing frustrated - whether with him or the situation, he wasn’t quite sure. “He’s my family. He needs to know.”</p><p>“Right.” Reno drained the last of his beer before he continued, the empty bottle thudding against the paper coaster. “And what if he throws a hissy fit over it? What then?”</p><p>Tifa’s eyes slightly narrowed from the inquiry, suddenly deep thought. “He’ll have to understand.”</p><p>She answered so simply, so confidently, that he almost let the whole thing go. “And if he doesn’t?”</p><p>A pause, brows drawn into a frown, yet her eyes were as determined as he’d ever seen them. “He has to.”</p><p>The tough questions had been asked and answered, and it was fair to give her a bit of a break. “You’re one stubborn woman when you wanna be. I like that - it’s fuckin' sexy.”</p><p>Tifa rolled her eyes with a small smile and a light blush. “Speaking of… how’d that walk of shame go?”</p><p>He dug an elbow into the bar, tossing his chin lazily into his palm. “You have to <em>have </em>shame in the first place,” he winked playfully. “But if you must know, I made it to work early.”</p><p>“Is that normal?” </p><p>Reno thought back to the gathered whispers at the reception desk, Tseng’s mild awe, and Rude and Elena’s wide-eyed surprise at his arrival. “Hardly, so that alone raised some suspicions.”</p><p>Tifa chuckled while giving her head a shake as she returned to her task. </p><p>She was grateful for the change in subject, but she knew he was exactly right. If they hoped to move forward and create a mutually beneficial dynamic, they needed to be open and honest with one another. He already offered much of himself to her, and while it was obvious it wasn’t a common occurrence, she thought it only proper that she did the same.</p><p>So lost in her contemplation, she didn’t take notice of Reno until he appeared beside her, arm to arm with her. He ditched the blazer and rolled his dress shirt sleeves to his elbows. With a dry cloth in hand, he took one of the washed tumblers and proceeded to wipe away any lingering droplets clinging to the surface.</p><p>The surprise on her face was evident. “What are you doing?”</p><p>“What does it look like?” His half smile warmed her heart and flushed her cheeks.</p><p>They worked together in a comfortable silence, washing and drying glassware, dishes, jiggers and shakers. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for Reno to dispose of bottles or garbage or even push in a chair or two upon a busy close. Joining her behind the bar after hours was brand new. </p><p>There was a semblance of domestication in how he dutifully shined each piece she handed to him, his wordless assistance was mesmerizing as was his attention to detail, rubbing free of any streaks or missed smudges. The spectacle was surreal, and while she was grateful for the aid, she stopped short of placing any recurrent expectations. These were her responsibilities, and she wouldn’t rely on others to take them on for her.</p><p>“What would you do without me?” Reno mused, tossing the cloth aimlessly to the side once he dried the last dish.</p><p>“Handle it all myself,” she said, flicking the excess water from her hands into the sink.</p><p>He turned to her fully, offering a much more serious expression than she was used to seeing from him. “You don’t have to, ya know.”</p><p>Those words brought her back to their night together, how she declared they no longer had to be alone anymore. Old habits die hard though, and she wasn’t prepared to put so much trust into anyone just yet, no matter how deeply her feelings may run - she’d been burned too often by the past to risk it. “It’s easier that way. You can’t be disappointed if you don’t set up the expectation in the first place.”</p><p>Reno glowered at her, leaning his hip against the edge of the inner counter. “That pessimism doesn't suit you - you’re sounding a little too much like me right now.”</p><p>She looked away from him, feeling awkward beneath his prudent stare. “I guess we have something in common.”</p><p>“If I had to pick one thing, that sure as shit wouldn't be it.” His tone was solemn.</p><p>With a small shrug of her shoulders, she moved away from him toward the kitchen. Quick to intercept her, he stepped out to block her path while taking her hand in his, bringing her knuckles to his lips. She let him, cautious eyes locking with his as he placed a delicate kiss against them. </p><p>“What do you want out of this?” He peered into her face, expression curious and earnest, tracing gentle fingertips along the curve of her hairline. Instinctively, she closed her eyes to relish his caress. “What are you hoping for? You know damn well I’m a broken mess.”</p><p>Opening her eyes, she smiled knowingly with a slight tilt of her head. “You should know by now I’m attracted to broken messes.”</p><p>“You should probably see a therapist for that.”</p><p>“I will if you do.”</p><p>Reno snickered, “Ask Rude how well that went the first time.” He clasped her chin between thumb and finger, angling her to look at him directly. “Answer me.”</p><p>Tifa didn’t try to turn away, but the request made her heart pick up its cadence. It was the first time she had ever been asked so candidly and she realized rather quickly her desires and expectations had simplified over the years. They came to her with such clarity, and the words tumbled from her lips without thought. “I want someone who is here, truly here with me, mentally and physically. I want someone who will look at me like I mean something to them.” She paused, the heat of his impassioned, ardent stare churning a heat within her abdomen that simmered and settled further south. “I want someone who is looking at me the way you are right now.”</p><p>Reno stilled, a lump in his throat. Pleasure and pain, it spread and expanded in his core, the tempo of his pulse magnifying. “I don’t want to disappoint you,” he confessed, somber in his reply, “but I can’t promise that I won’t be an asshat at some point. It’s in my nature.”</p><p>“I’ll have to see if that’s true. Right now, I don’t think I believe that.”</p><p>He grinned, moving his hand from her chin to cup her cheek. She leaned into him. “Talk about setting yourself up for disappointment. You’ve got mighty high expectations of me, Tifa.” He didn’t give her the satisfaction of a rebuttal, instead bringing his mouth to hers, effectively silencing her. </p><p>And she easily relented, giving into the sweet proficiency of his lips, the taste of him rousing the carnal voices of her subconscious. But she still had too much to do, and despite the ache that wrought from it, she pulled from his kiss. “I still have work to finish.”</p><p>His lips descended into her neck, undeterred. “Finish it later.”</p><p>“I don’t want another repeat of last night,” came a whisper, her body wavering at his unrelenting affection. </p><p>“You sure?” he breathed against her skin, arms curving around her waist to draw her in. “I thought last night was pretty hot.”</p><p>A well-placed nip below her ear elicited a sharp gasp. “You know what I mean.”</p><p>Tifa squirmed from his embrace with ease, his arms dropping to his sides as disappointment framed his face.</p><p>“I’ll be right back, just gotta restock,” she told him, her smile apologetic as she left him, moving through the kitchen and into the garage. A flick of a switch by the doorway illuminated the space, casting shadows against concrete.</p><p>The separation and the cool air provided enough distance and clarity to regain herself. In truth, she was just as anxious as he was, her flesh already burning for his body - each caress, every kiss smoldering and searing. A generous inhale calmed the quiver that rattled her bones as she stepped into the garage. </p><p>She scooted past her parked vehicle to stand before a shelving unit, each ledge categorized by liquor or wine type and alphabetized by name. Scanning the labels, she found what she was seeking, a Mideel Merlot, relatively quickly.</p><p>As she reached for the bottle, the light went out.</p><p>Suspicion danced as her eyes tried to adjust to the cover of darkness. She sighed, exasperated. “Reno, that’s not funny.”</p><p>A yelp of surprise tore from her throat as a firm, lithe body pulled her against it by the wrist. Azure eyes glowed at her through the adjusting black, a primal grin spreading across his face that she could barely discern. “I’m not trying to be funny.”</p><p>“What <em>are</em> you trying to do?” she asked, the words quaking from her lips, the bubbling panic slowly subsiding upon recognition.</p><p>“Isn’t it obvious?”</p><p>Her flesh responded to the husk in his voice and the soft caress of his mouth that found her jawline as a euphoric ripple glided across her skin. Through the dusky atmosphere, they moved, and she felt the backs of her legs collide against the bumper of her car, her back curving along a hard, cool metal surface that gave just slightly beneath her weight. Between her legs he settled, and she became acutely aware of the rod iron firmness that lay between his own. Fingers tenderly caressed her silhouette, his body pressed firmly against her. </p><p>“To have me in a dark, dusty garage?” Tifa murmured, struggling to sound agitated but even to her own ears she knew she failed. Her lustful gaze ultimately betrayed her.</p><p>As much as she attempted to inject any amount of reason into the situation, her heart and body had just about given up the fight.</p><p>“Babe, I have much larger ambitions than just that,” he purred, locking her wrists above her head just shy of the windshield wipers. “I want to have you <em>everywhere.</em>”</p><p>Tifa shuddered beneath him, each breath expanding her chest, crushing her further against him. Securing her wrists with one hand, he brushed the side of her breast with the other, and the whimper that spilled from her parted lips seemed to bounce from wall to wall. </p><p>“All you have to do is say ‘no’, and this ends, and I’ll go home and <em>handle it </em>myself,” he whispered into her ear, but the eagerness in his tone was ostensible. </p><p>Tifa fought the urge from the early morning through the evening, but their current proximity along with the way his breath caressed her cheek and the length of him against her pelvis made the fight utterly futile.</p><p>So, she gave up.</p><p>The roll of her hips nearly burst the coil that sat tightly wound within him. He could see her clearly now; dark hair spilled across the hood and the irresistibly perfect pout of her pink lips. The temptation of her was too much for him to ignore, his defenses against her beautifully shaped figure, the allure of her smile, and the lyrical charm of her voice all collapsed the moment he kissed her. Perhaps a garage wasn’t a romantic location for seduction, but his arousal didn’t care about scenery.</p><p>“You have no idea what you do to me,” he confessed, his tone thick with restrained desire, his face an inch from hers. He was close to losing it, losing the control he held by the tips of his fingers. The pressure was deliciously painful as the vision of her writhing beneath him again encapsulated his thoughts, the haze of hunger blinding.</p><p>Two words granted permission to set him loose.</p><p>“Show me.”</p><p>Reno slipped his hands beneath her skirt the moment it registered, tearing her panties from her hips and through her legs. He gazed at her like a savage beast, eyes wild and ravenous as he tossed them clear across the garage.</p><p>She gasped, but her delicious squirm was more than enough to confirm his methods weren’t unwelcome. As he motioned to sink his fingers between her thighs, she slapped his arm away. </p><p>“<em>Show me</em>,” she repeated with emphasis, her fingers pressing her legs apart for his pleasure. His heart skipped, a sheen of sweat coated his forehead as her command sent a jolt of desire straight to his need, the ache edging toward intolerable. </p><p>His restraint dissolved as he found himself throwing open his fly and pulling himself free. The bite of her lip was enough to break him, to want to take her like an animal. He gripped her hips and slid her closer. Her body tensed with anticipation, their eyes locking beneath the veil of darkness.</p><p>At the sound of a closing kitchen cabinet, they both fell motionless.</p><p>Silence dropped and suffocated, panic flowing through Tifa’s veins, eyes flying wide like saucers.</p><p>What she feared the most was coming to fruition. Scathing reprimands coursed through her thoughts in a cluster of ridicule for her carelessness. Above all else, she was terrified.</p><p>In her panic, she sat upright, but Reno was quick to grab and pull her against him, the more rational of the two.</p><p>“Shh,” the whisper against her hair was muted, practically inaudible. She complied with his direction, her frame rigid within his embrace as they waited out the culprit in the kitchen.</p><p>In the distance, a faucet turned, and a stream poured for several beats before shutting off. Small feet padded a bit closer toward the doorway, and Tifa thought she might scream. Stone still, they continued to wait, breath held tightly within her lungs.</p><p>After what felt like eternity, the footfalls retreated and disappeared altogether.</p><p>“Well…” Reno said, appearing confident the threat of discovery was gone, “the thrill of getting caught is really something, eh?”</p><p>Anger flared as she shoved at his shoulders. He stumbled backward a step or two. “Not by the children!” She slid from the hood and adjusted her skirt with shaky hands. Her panties were nowhere to be found at first glance and she didn’t bother to search for them, far too distraught to think clearly. </p><p>Tifa was positively mortified. Dread blossomed as the adrenaline drained from her pores and left her heavy and hollow all at once. Hands flew to her face, palms pressed fiercely to her cheeks as she struggled to control her erratic breath. “I can’t do this.”</p><p>Reno settled himself into his trousers and zipped them closed before gripping her by the shoulders, giving her a shake. “Hey, look at me.”</p><p>Dropping her arms to her sides at his request, she gazed back at him. She didn’t expect to find fear behind his eyes. “Yeah, look, I admit, that was a bit dicey. With kids in the house...there should be some level of caution. I get it. But don’t tell me you can’t <em>do </em>this.”</p><p>The sincerity in his voice and the sobriety of his expression calmed the wave that threatened to drown her in guilt. His sudden concern for losing it all was clear, and it gave her a sense of reassurance that perhaps he was truly in it for the long haul.</p><p>“I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant. Maybe we should slow things down.” She watched his face for a moment, searching for any alarming shifts at her suggestion, “Just a bit. Until I can figure things out.”</p><p>Reno looked at her softly, concealing the doubt that sprouted within. As much as he would be perfectly happy to throw caution to the wind, he knew her position was much more tumultuous than his own. If they were to really make a go at anything, he knew he had to respect her situation, respect her family.</p><p>“Take all the time you need,” he said quietly, placing a tender kiss to her forehead.</p><p>“Just a little while,” she assured him, smiling up at him. “I do want this.”</p><p>He grinned as he buried away his unease. “I know, I’m irresistible.” </p><p>“You would say that,” she retorted playfully.</p><p>Reno sighed dramatically. “Damn, Tifa. Are you incapable of stroking a man’s ego just a little bit?”</p><p>Tifa laughed, light and mirthful. “I think you’ve been stroking your own just fine.”</p><p>“But it’s not nearly as satisfying when I do it alone,” he winked suggestively, but lingered any longer there would be more regrets. He pulled away at that, running at hand through his hair. “I better go before I get us into trouble.”</p><p>“You don’t have to,” she fidgeted, fingers tumbling over one another.</p><p>“Oh no, I <em>have</em> to.”</p><p>Tifa nodded in understanding as she watched him head for the kitchen through the lingering darkness. </p><p>As she followed him out, the pit within her stomach grew, worry clenching to her throat tight. It felt too much like a goodbye, one she wasn’t asking for. The challenge her of her family presented a difficult situation to operate, but she wasn’t throwing in the towel - not even close.</p><p>Reno gathered his blazer on his way past the bar, slipping his arms through the sleeves of it. He carried himself with such a nonchalant poise, and along with his nimble grace and fluid gait, Tifa simply stared longingly after him as he walked on. The aroma of his musk mixed with the lingering scent of nicotine flooded her senses, his essence embedding into her memory. She considered pulling him back and asking him to stay, but personal responsibility was calling far too loudly, and she forced herself to let him go, just for now. </p><p>He paused when he approached the door to turn to her. The warmth of his hands spread over her skin as he cupped her face and brought her in. His kiss was calm, languid, and filled with an arduous sentiment he’d yet to verbally express. </p><p>He didn’t need to.</p><p>“I hope you figure it out soon,” he told her once they parted.</p><p>In a daze, she stood ever still as he cleared the locks and walked through the door, shutting it behind him.</p><p>Her heart throbbed as she watched his retreating figure slip into the night, a painful constriction tied to the rhythm beneath her chest. She turned the locks in place to secure the entrance, but she craved to throw it open and call him back to her. </p><p>Suddenly, she feared that perhaps this time he wouldn’t return. She couldn’t really blame him, but it hurt her just the same.</p><p>Across the room her phone buzzed and rattled against the counter. Walking to it, she picked it up and flipped it open. The glare from the screen illuminated her face as she carefully read the new message.</p><p>She smiled, her previous distress fading away:</p><p>
  <em>Call me when you want me. I’ll be there.</em>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Discovered</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Once again, thank you to everyone for their kudos and comments - they give me life and I am grateful to you all.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Discovered</em>
</p><p>The buzz of her phone sent her belly a flutter, and with each new notification Tifa was anxious to view his message.</p><p>Several days passed since Reno made an appearance at Seventh Heaven, providing her the time she’d requested. She never quite asked for the space, but at further probing, she understood that his hands as well as other sensitive areas were not so likely to comply with the rational side of his brain. For now, they settled on text messages, to which she was eager to receive.</p><p>However, the agreement didn’t stop him from making salacious requests.</p><p>The exchanges were initially innocent, yet slowly but surely descended into prurient territory. Tifa blushed at the appeals for provocative content, denying him at every turn despite his begging. The requests continued on in between pleasantries regardless, and she strangely found his persistence comforting.</p><p>The distance pushed her to move forward to formulate a path in bringing her new, budding relationship to light with those closest to her. After days and nights of separation and careful contemplation, she was no closer to a solution to her problem. To Reno’s credit, he abstained from applying direct pressure and let her to come to her own conclusions regarding how to handle her family. </p><p>During that time, Tifa descended into normalcy. The children and the bar encapsulated the majority of her time, focusing her attention on the mundane responsibilities of being a caretaker and a business owner. The lack of freedom provided the vexatious reminder that her life was actively passing her by, only emphasized by the present predicament of Reno’s absence. But communication between them was somewhat consistent and a welcome addition to her routine that lent a sense of stability she didn’t know she needed.</p><p>It was a late Friday night when the ache of loneliness hit her hardest. The bar was closed and with the cleanup behind her, she fumbled with her phone at her bedside. Hovering over his contact, her thumb loomed just over the button to dial him. </p><p>The hour was late, and the last message came some time ago, cursing his late night hours at Headquarters. Their message exchanges were encouraging and increasingly personal, ranging within the realm of affectionate beguilement. She had no reason to believe her call would be unwelcome. Nonetheless, anxiety dripped through her veins and she almost closed the phone, forgetting the whole thing.</p><p>The number was dialed and the receiver was at her ear before she knew what she’d done.</p><p>The voicemail kicked in and she slapped the phone shut.</p><p>Tifa stood from the bed to wring her hands and pace. Her mind spiraled, thoughts free-falling into absurdity. Was it too late? Was he ignoring her call? Did he find someone else? These questions raced through her head as a voice filled with doubt taunted her relentlessly. </p><p>Irrationality was not her friend, and she attempted to send it back to the shadows of her subconscious from whence it came.</p><p>The pacing took her to her corkboard where her eyes fell to her list. Her hopes of enriching and controling her life rested within these lines of distant desires. <em>Spend less time overthinking,</em> while simplistic in its direction, seemed to be one of the most difficult notions to grasp and execute. As was her way to fall prey to the inner trappings an anxious heart brought her, the damage it caused her psyche was far too destructive to allow it to manifest.</p><p>The vibration in her palm redirected her attention back to her phone. A beat or two passed before she was able to flip it open to read the text.</p><p>
  <em>still working babe. call u back soon.</em>
</p><p>And just like that, the boisterous noise in her head was silenced and the tremor in her heart quelled.</p><p>She fell asleep before the phone ever rang, and her regret in missing the call would knot her stomach come morning. He didn’t leave a voicemail, but a short message in its stead:</p><p>
  <em>missed u.</em>
</p><p>Frustration grew, but her window of opportunity to respond rapidly closed as the children were not only early risers, but Yuffie’s sudden appearance came unannounced and mostly unexpected. </p><p>Days off came and went at a moments notice, and when granted, Yuffie seized the opportunity to take advantage of it. While dropping in would seem disruptive and chaotic to other households, such behavior wasn’t entirely uncommon within Tifa’s, having become rather comfortable upholding an open door policy. </p><p>While the two agreed on a visit, Tifa just didn’t expected it quite so soon.</p><p>Yuffie’s visit came bearing gifts for the children—a new colored pencil art set for Marlene and an intricately carved and painted Chocobo figurine for Denzel. While he was expressly gracious to Yuffie for the gift, there was a sense of confusion that also tinged Denzel’s features. Noting his befuddlement, she offered a simple explanation as to the trinkets symbolism:</p><p>“Doesn’t that remind you of someone we all know with a spiky yellow mess on his head?”</p><p>Small fingers glided over each carefully crafted detail of the figurine as he smiled, understanding the implication. Even though he was gone, Cloud Strife was certainly not forgotten. Despite the distance between them, he would always be his hero. </p><p>When the children disappeared upstairs to their room to put their newly acquired presents away, the two women were momentarily left alone. </p><p>Yuffie’s presence made it all the more clear to Tifa that at some point she would have no choice but to rip the bandaid off. Her friends and family would filter in and out and eventually the truth would catch up and expose itself. She just wasn’t sure if she was ready.</p><p>“Any more news on what's going on with Shinra and WRO?” Tifa asked. “Is the information going public?” </p><p>“Not yet. There’s some details that are still being worked out.” Yuffie’s mouth opened and closed, as if she were going to elaborate but held back. Instead, she grinned wryly, “Barret’s still in the dark, so you’ve got some time to prepare before he blows up. I suggest finding a bunker.”</p><p>The intel provided a small semblance of comfort. She had a bit more time in navigating the muddy waters of her endeavor and the complications that would likely arise from them. She wondered then if detailing her current liaison to Yuffie and releasing the burden of maintaining the secret would serve to lighten the load. She placed trust into Tifa and it would have been fair to do the same. </p><p>“Speakin’ of Barret...”</p><p>Tifa broke out of her contemplation to look at Yuffie. The smirk she found was far too smug and judgmental for her liking.</p><p>“I heard through the good ol’ grapevine that a certain mullet-wearing Turk has not only been frequenting this establishment, but a certain Denzel has gotten a little too close for his liking.” Her expression tightened with curiosity. “Mind telling me what’sa goin’ on with you?”</p><p>Her tone took on an accusatory measure that Tifa didn’t care for. It didn’t lend any confidence in confiding her dalliances with said Turk and decided to hold back the confession. She let it anchor into the depths of secrecy. </p><p>Tifa’s eyes darkened before she could stop it. “I don’t know why either of you are suddenly doubting my parenting skills.”</p><p>As if struck, Yuffie took a step back, waving her hands and shaking her head. “No way! That’s not it at all. But I do find it curious that you seemed groovy enough to let Denzel mess around with his arsenal.”</p><p>“It was just his <em>baton</em>,” Tifa corrected. “And I told Barret it wouldn’t happen again. That’s the end of it.”</p><p>The children barreled down the steps before any further interrogation, saving her from Yuffie’s torturous scrutiny. Given the side eye, Tifa knew the respite was temporary. </p><p>With skies clear and weather permissible, a small rush of a dinner crowd flooded the venue. With an extra pair of hands, the storm of patrons was easily contained; Yuffie and Marlene lent their assistance on the floor serving and clearing tables while Denzel aided Tifa behind the bar, washing dishes as they came. They worked as a well oiled machine, manning their designated stations while keeping a lighthearted levity to their tasks.</p><p>Tifa was certainly grateful for the help, but she knew the kids would prefer fun and games their visitor so aptly provided. She encouraged their abandonment, assuring them she would handle the night just fine on her own once the rush had leveled out. </p><p>When the dinner crowd thinned and the drinking crowd replaced it, Yuffie collected the children and began the retreat to the upper floor. Denzel hesitated, glancing back through the bar as if searching. Disappointment framed his face, looking to Tifa for some sort of answer or assurance. </p><p>His interest in Reno certainly added to the mess she was already sifting through, but she couldn’t fault him for his fascination. If anything, it alleviated some of the jitters she carried in introducing the new relationship to the rest of the family. The transition would still be a complicated concept for them to understand as Cloud’s role within the unit, should he ever return, would be slightly modified. She reminded herself of their resilience and felt fairly hopeful the change would be an acceptable one.</p><p>Reluctant to address his chagrin, she gestured for him to follow Yuffie who waited for him. “Go play, I’ve got this.”</p><p>The question lingered in his eyes, and Tifa held her breath, but an inquiry never came. Instead, he nodded and acquiesced to her direction, following Yuffie up the stairs.</p><p>Tifa lost herself in her work, moving about the bar to address each table with casual greetings as she tried to remove her mind from the rampant negativity that accosted it. Between the interrogation hours earlier and the very real dread of exposure, Tifa resolved to keep quiet for now. Putting Yuffie so close to the powder keg could set it off, and the ripple effect would be impossible to control. She just couldn’t risk it.</p><p>The door opened and she turned from her position at a corner booth to greet the new arrival, only for her heart to plummet.</p><p>Adorned with a sardonic smirk and his usual business suit attire, Reno shot a mock salute in Tifa’s direction and settled himself comfortably at the bar. She quickly followed, taking herself behind the counter as a mixture of emotions, ranging anywhere from delight to dismay, churned together as she approached him.</p><p>Casually, he brought out his pack and lighter from his inner blazer pocket, his demeanor calm and collected as he pulled a cigarette and wedged it between his lips. The lighter flickered, flame extending to catch the tip followed by a plume of smoke he directed away from her. </p><p>“Don’t get mad,” he said. “Been a long few days and I was bored and needed a drink. Besides, since we played a bit of phone tag I figured you missed me.”</p><p>The trepidity in her stomach dissipated as his smirk morphed into something soft and endearing. The warmth of it traveled from her the tips of her fingers to the ends of her toes.</p><p>Leaning her forearms into the bar top, her lips curled into a small smile. “I’m not mad. And sorry I didn’t respond. Things have been a little crazy today.”</p><p>“I’m sure you’ll find a way to make it up to me,” he winked.</p><p>Tifa pushed off from the bar with a shake of her head, leaving him only to grab his preferred beer. She felt his eyes, hard and penetrating, following her every move. The time and distance between them only added fuel to the lascivious fire and she wondered just how long things could continue this way before it all burned down.  </p><p>She returned to drop his drink in front him, and he was quick to grab her retreating hand. Within that moment, they forgot themselves and the agreement established as he entwined his fingers with hers. It was brief and fleeting, but it was enough to send her soaring. </p><p>When he let go, Tifa struggled to clear herself of the intimate memories of their not so distant past.</p><p>Reno chuckled as color flared over her cheeks. “Looks like you <em>do</em> miss me.”</p><p>“Yuffie is here,” she said quietly. The pink hue drained away, remembering precisely why distance was initiated to begin with. “Upstairs right now, but she’s visiting…”</p><p>An air of indifference surrounded him. “I take it you haven’t gushed about how charming I am to her yet.”</p><p>“I just...I’m just afraid that she might become vocal about us if I do.”</p><p>“Big mans’ gotta be the first to know, eh?” </p><p>Tifa nodded, eyes averting away from him to the bar. Worry clouded her vision as she waited for his response. She asked for time, and he was giving it, but eventually he would break. </p><p>The clock was ticking, whether she liked it or not.</p><p>“I’ll try to be on my best behavior...” his tone dropped to a suggestive octave, “but no promises.”</p><p>Rendered speechless, she stepped back. A shudder ripped through her as she cast a demure glance after him, moving off and away from him.</p><p>Reno’s long and heavy stares were anything but innocuous. Tifa kept adequate space between them to discourage temptation, yet even she was not insusceptible to his charm. Secret smiles found their way to her lips as she passed him or met his gaze from across the room. With his tongue at bay, his eyes were dark with lustful intentions and vivid transparency. His patience was dwindling.</p><p>Try as she might to focus on her work and patrons, her thoughts frequently fluttered back to him. The fervor behind his gaze crawled and clawed as she pulled a shot glass from the rack. Warmth at her belly ignited, retrieving a bottle of tequila from the back wall while her neck and hands grew clammy to the touch. </p><p>They shared a look between them that left her breathless. </p><p>The sudden touch at her elbow shocked her from her line of sight, nearly dropping the liquor in her grip. The small pool of amber contents sloshed as she whirled around to find Yuffie standing before her, a dubious expression on her face. A tight grip took her arm and Yuffie all but dragged Tifa to the side and presumably out of earshot of Reno.</p><p>“Okay—I let you off the hook earlier for the kids sake, but come on. You got something going on with the Turk?” she gestured toward the man in question, whose attention conveniently drifted elsewhere.</p><p>Tifa feigned exasperation while struggling to contain her composure beneath Yuffie’s shrewd glower. “I thought I explained this earlier.”</p><p>Yuffie rolled her eyes. “Give me a break, Tifa. I could maybe buy the ‘boys will be boys’ thing with Denzel, but he was being <em>awfully </em>flirty with you.”</p><p>Tifa frowned, attempting to harden her features. Her heart thrummed wildly. “He does that with all the girls, Yuffie. It’s just how he is.”</p><p>“Did you forget who you’re talking to? It’s not like I haven’t seen you swat guys away like flies when they so much as step out of line. You two look <em>way </em>too comfortable with each other.”</p><p>Tifa shot a cursory glance in his direction, who maintained his disinterest in their discussion. “Reno is a customer and has been coming here for some time now. And... a little attention brings in extra tips. That’s all.”</p><p>Yuffie was clearly unconvinced, her stance rigid as she placed a hand to her cocked hip. “My pretty little ass, that’s all…”</p><p>Panic nibbled away at Tifa’s resolve. “Seriously, it’s nothing! Can we drop it please?”</p><p>Yuffie observed her quizzically while Tifa maintained an agitated poise. Finally, a small sigh passed, her face releasing its tight skepticism. “Fine fine, I believe you.”  </p><p>She moved into the kitchen, her sights set on Reno as she went by. Greeting Yuffie with a smirk, he tipped his beer toward her as a look of suspicion slowly stretched over her face. His performative nonchalance earned a heavy sigh and the shake of her head as she disappeared from his viewpoint.</p><p>The air was stifling as Tifa clung to the bottle in hand, battling against her fraying nerves, waiting for Yuffie to vacate the kitchen and return to the children. The stubborn lies fell from her lips easily, hard denial adding to growing, palpable tension. She could only hope Yuffie’s prying was at an end.</p><p>When she re-emerged, Yuffie carried with her a platter stacked with a various assortment of cookies.</p><p>Tifa’s first instinct was to question her and the tray she carried. Yuffie had a penchant for sugary treats which she naturally shared with the children during her visits, occasionally leading to restless nights and uncomfortable stomachs. Although, present company incentivized her to shoo off the visitor as soon as possible. With the two under the same roof, plausible deniability would become increasingly strained.</p><p>Yuffie made her way for the stairs unimpeded. </p><p>She stopped, however, just short of the steps, turning back around. “Hey Tifa.” Once her attention was captured, she asked, “You’d...tell me if something was up, right?”</p><p>“Of course,” Tifa answered quickly. Guilt clenched her throat, and she desperately hoped the reply would be enough to satisfy her.</p><p>Yuffie merely nodded and retreated back upstairs to join the kids with her sweet and indulgent delivery.</p><p>The remorse piled on as the little white lies mounted. Trust was such a precious thing and not given freely—she wasn’t ready to put that kind of trust in Yuffie with something so fragile.</p><p>Visibly troubled by the conversation, Tifa returned to Reno. He looked far more amused than she felt he should. “I think Yuffie suspects us.”</p><p>He scoffed, grinning. “Well that’s obvious. I told you you’re a terrible liar.”</p><p>The corner of her eye caught a patron hailing for her attention, and she lifted a finger for patience and flashed a smile in response. She then returned her attention to Reno. “I don’t want to ask this, but could you please head out earlier than usual tonight? I just want to…”</p><p>“Kick her off the scent?” he replied with a hint of annoyance.</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>Reno paused, and she saw a glint of frustration cross his eyes. A glance to his beer, studying the label as if gathering his thoughts before he looked back to her. “You’re prolonging the inevitable, you know.”</p><p>“It’s not the right time,” she insisted.</p><p>A slight furrowing of his brows suggested his tolerance for the situation was narrowing. “Have you considered there might never <em>be</em> a right time?”</p><p>Tifa didn’t answer, frozen by the weight of regret that pervaded her heart. It seeped in and held fast as the eventuality of what needed to be said came crashing down. If she waited too long, she would lose him. Fear was controlling her and they both knew it.</p><p>Several notes appeared on the counter beneath Reno’s hand, having reached into his wallet to produce the currency. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d requested his money and the sudden payment unnerved her. Words failed her as he slipped from his stool, cigarette snuffed in the ashtray.</p><p>“Figure it out.”</p><p>The sharpness of his tone shot an icy chill down her spine, feet firmly rooted in place. She wanted nothing more but to chase after him as he stalked out the door, to assuage his fears that this wasn’t all for nothing. </p><p>She didn’t.</p><p>Collecting the gil he left behind, she returned to the empty shot glass, filling it with the remainder of tequila, just short of rim. Tossing the empty bottle into the bin at her feet, she delivered the beverage to the awaiting customer. Diving head first into her duties was a standard solution to many of her problems and this was no different.</p><p>But her concentration suffered, scarcely recalling her clienteles’ requests once she returned behind the bar. Her mind was addled with worry and remorse, shaken by his abrupt exit. Deep breaths and moments later, she forced herself into her professional fortitude and carried on as if nothing were amiss. </p><p>By the time Yuffie bounded back down the stairs, Tifa managed to put her feelings into a box and set to occupying her downtime with washing and polishing glassware.</p><p>“Where did Turkey-head go?” Yuffie asked as she ambled up to Tifa’s side.</p><p>“He left.”</p><p>Yuffie tapped a finger to her chin dramatically, a brow lifting curiously. “That’s interesting. Figured he’d be here until close, getting wasted.”</p><p>Tifa pursed her lips, clinging to both the flute and cloth in her hands with excessive force. “He has to work early or something. I didn’t ask.”</p><p>“I’m sure you didn’t.”</p><p>Thoroughly irked by her persistent baiting, Tifa whirled on her with agitation on full display. “Yuffie, please!” </p><p>“Yeah yeah, I heard you the first time—<em>it’s nothing, Yuffie!</em>” she mocked then huffed. “I just came down to see if you needed any help.”</p><p>With her waning temper now controlled, she pushed forth a smile of gratitude. “Thanks. Could you run to the garage and grab a Dio Cuervo for me? I’m out.”</p><p>Yuffie clasped her hands together beneath her chin and batted her lashes. “Say please?” The annoyed expression on Tifa’s face was enough to push her into action. “Alright, I’m going.”</p><p>As Yuffie moved to the back, a voice called for shots and a resounding note of approval rippled through the bar. A rugged clap to the shoulder of a young man not much older than Tifa, surrounded by various men his age and older. Whispers told of a promotion, and a celebratory drink was in order.</p><p>These were the types of distractions she counted on—to be thoroughly engrossed within the adrenaline rush that triggered from such high demand. A half thought formulated to call Yuffie for help that quickly dissolved as she divvied out shot after shot to the clamoring crowd. </p><p>She hoped to feel her phone, nestled securely in her back pocket, vibrate with a signal of reassurance that he wasn’t upset by then, that he understood and was simply giving her time and space to <em>figure it out</em>. The callousness of his voice, however, shook the ground she stood on.</p><p>Forcing away the uncertainty, she quenched the alcoholic thirst of the crowd, losing herself to the rhythm of her task.</p><p>Dots of perspiration collected at her forehead as she took a rag to wipe the spillage from the countertop after the final beverage was delivered. It was then that Yuffie finally emerged from the kitchen, Dio Cuervo in tow.</p><p>“Took awhile,” Tifa grinned teasingly. “Did you get lost?”</p><p>Yuffie set the bottle down beside her with a small thud. The grin she cast was borderline insidious. “Nope. Found exactly what I needed.” </p><p>Something about the exchange unsettled her, but before Tifa had the opportunity to further probe, Yuffie was already heading for the stairs and out of sight.</p><p>The evening ticked on without incident, and her customers slowly but surely filed out of Seventh Heaven and into the city. The gentle hum of the cooler filled the room as the lingering patrons drained their beverages in silence and sauntered out into the cool night air.</p><p>Tifa pulled her phone free from her back pocket to find it void of messages. </p><p>Of course it was—he was angry with her.</p><p>She willed herself to send him a text of her own—an apology, a promise, <em>something.</em></p><p>The familiar descent of footsteps interrupted her deliberation. Shutting her phone, she placed it back into her pocket resolving to deal with that dilemma later. </p><p>Yuffie approached with an overhead stretch and an obnoxious yawn. “Well, despite the scrumptious cookies, I managed to get the kids to sleep. Tired those little suckers out with the Wutai tickle fingers.” She hooked her hands like claws and wiggled the fingers for emphasis.</p><p>“Thank you for taking care of them, and for your help earlier,” Tifa said with a smile. She slipped past Yuffie to cross the bar who hopped back to provide ample space for her exit. Reaching the door, she turned the locks and shut the blinds.</p><p>Yuffie moved from behind the bar and across the floor to stand not more than a few feet from Tifa. “Now that we’re alone... I’ve got something to show ya.”</p><p>Tifa turned around to find the last thing she would have ever expected to see:</p><p>A pair of white cotton panties gently swaying between Yuffie’s finger and thumb.</p><p>Mortification didn’t begin to describe her current state of distress. How could she <em>forget</em> about them? </p><p>“I’m pretty sure dirty panties don’t just walk all by themselves into a garage.” </p><p>Tifa balled her hands into fists at her sides, swallowing the panic, the fear, the anger back down into her gut. All that was left was petulance. “You were <em>snooping</em>.”</p><p>“Correction—I was <em>investigating</em>,” Yuffie countered, her expression drawing tight. The accusation must have rubbed her raw. “Besides, you <em>asked </em>me to go into the garage. I just <em>happened </em>to stumble upon this little number. You need to get better at hiding evidence...and buy prettier underwear.”</p><p>It occurred to her then she had nowhere to turn, nowhere to run. She could have easily admitted it all, laid out all the cards and relieved herself of the interrogation and accepted what was to come. </p><p>“You had no right,” Tifa all but whispered, unable to dislodge the overwhelming need to remain defensive.</p><p>Yuffie didn’t seem deterred, but the hurt in her eyes slowly became evident, lowering the garment in hand. “Are you going to be honest with me yet?”</p><p>The denial continued, stuck on a hamster wheel of deception. “Nothing is going on.”</p><p>“The kids didn’t do you any favors. Denzel and Marlene happily spilled the beans when I asked them about him being here, <em>after</em> hours on at least one occasion.” She stopped, looking at Tifa expectantly. </p><p>She offered nothing but her silence. </p><p>“Your obvious tolerance of him, let alone the fact that you <em>actually </em>let Denzel get close enough to the guy tells me it’s <em>not </em>nothing. Your questions about forgiving Shinra weren't suspicious when you asked them back then, but it makes loads more sense now.” </p><p>Tifa just stood there, speechless and ashamed it came to this. </p><p>“You might as well come clean, because I have methods of finding stuff out and you won’t like them.”  Yuffie’s face fell with that, dejected. “I trusted <em>you, </em>you know…”</p><p>The defensive barrier began to whittle and break, and with it her resolve.</p><p>It was all too much, so...</p><p>Tifa told her everything.</p><p>She told her how one night that should have been a fleeting memory was the start of something new. She told her of the complex emotions that came with their affair and how she couldn’t stop thinking of him. She told Yuffie how she found forgiveness in her heart for a man that had once stood on the opposite side of the war zone. </p><p>Finally, she told her that she was committed to giving it a fighting chance.</p><p>At some point, they came together at one of the middle tables. Tifa’s hands were interlocked to steady her tremor as Yuffie sat across, wide-eyed and profoundly intrigued, panties forgotten on the floor at her feet.</p><p>A lull fell between them once the tale ended, and Tifa cautiously peered into Yuffie’s eyes, fearing the worst. “Are you angry with me?”</p><p>It was a long while before an answer came, Yuffie fidgeting restlessly in her seat. “Well yeah, but because you couldn’t trust me with this. Not because of...<em>Reno</em>.”</p><p>Tifa bit at her bottom lip. “I’m sorry. This whole thing is not exactly...conventional.”</p><p>“I’ll say,” Yuffie agreed. Her expression took on a more serious edge. “There are people in our immediate friendship octagon that aren’t going to look at this very kindly. And you know who I’m thinking of.”</p><p>“I know,” Tifa answered simply. “I’ll tell him.”</p><p>Yuffie gazed at her critically, “<em>Tell </em>him tell him? Or tell him like you told me? You’re lucky my history with the Turks isn't so sketch. Barret probably won’t accept this.”</p><p>Tifa frowned, averting her attention to her hands. The tremor returned as the dread of future conversations began to overwhelm her. “He has to.”</p><p>“But what if he doesn't?”</p><p>Tifa knew it was a very real possibility. But it was an unacceptable outcome, one she didn’t care to put any real thought into, “I’ll cross that bridge if it happens.”</p><p>Momentarily satisfied, Yuffie pitched forward to fold her arms on the table with a sigh. “I wouldn’t have told them, you know. That’s for you to do, not me. But I gotta ask...does this mean you’ve moved on from you-know-who?”</p><p>The context was obvious, as was the answer—it was time. “I have.”</p><p>“Then I’ll support you, any way I can,” Yuffie told her sincerely, the smile that accompanied the offer positively genuine.</p><p>A significant weight lifted from her chest, and suddenly Tifa could breathe again.</p><p>They stood, and Tifa reached down to collect the discarded panties and stuffed them into her pocket. She thought of her family and how her negligence and carelessness was liable to hurt them if she continued this way. She thought of Reno and how unfairly she treated his patience and understanding. There was damage done that night, and the opportunity to make amends with the latter presented itself like a beacon of hope. </p><p>“Yuffie... do you think you could maybe watch the kids for me tomorrow night?” </p><p>Brown eyes lit up as a sly grin spread across her mouth. “Lookin’ the get freaky deeky, eh?”</p><p>“Something like that…” Tifa admitted, struggling to hold her composure beneath the implication.</p><p>“Well you’re in luck! You’ve got me another couple days until I’m off to Shinra.” A certain pensiveness flashed over her features before it was gone the following instant. “Gonna link up with my new recruit.” </p><p>“New recruit?”</p><p>Yuffie nodded with a bit of a smirk. “Looks like I’m acquiring your boy toy’s bosom buddy, Rude of the Turkeys, into my branch.” </p><p>Tifa was aware that Turks didn’t often serve for life, but with Rude moving onto different pastures, she couldn’t help but think of how Reno was dealing with it, if at all. </p><p>“That’s a bit unexpected. I thought your department was unaffected.”</p><p>“Well I <em>obviously</em> thought wrong,” Yuffie grumbled, swiping a dirty glass from the table they occupied moments ago. “If I had to guess, it’s not just about the money anymore. I think Reeve wants to dish out second chances. Old man is idealistic.”</p><p>“Does that bother you?”</p><p>Tifa studied Yuffie as she fell silent, eyes narrowing in concentration. Finally, she pushed out a heavy breath and Tifa found she was still holding hers. “Who am I to say they aren’t allowed to help clean up their mess?” She gave a quick glance around, her face scrunching as she took in the sight of the venue. “Speaking of messes...you should probably call loverboy while I start tackling <em>this </em>mess.”</p><p>“Thank you.”</p><p>“I know, I’m awesome.” Yuffie winked before flitting about the bar clearing tables as she made her way toward the counter, arms filled with glasses and bottles alike.</p><p>Tifa pulled free her phone as she pondered precisely what she would say to him, if he would even accept her call. Should she apologize? Ask for forgiveness? She put him through the ringer, demanding his forbearance while wasting his time. Whatever else happened, she had to make him believe this was worth the wait.</p><p>Pressing his contact information, the tone rang against her ear, anxiety flaring as the tension forced her muscles rigid.</p><p>When he picked up, there was silence on the other end.</p><p>She took in a deep breath and held the phone steady despite the incessant quake of her hands.</p><p>“Let’s go out tomorrow,” she said, summoning every bit of strength and courage she had at her disposal. “I told Yuffie everything.”</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Mine</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Mine</em>
</p><p>There were certain things in life Reno simply found no pleasure in, and the arts happened to be one of them.</p><p>Loveless became a year-round spectacle, providing a source of entertainment to the ever growing and restless populace of Edge. Whether it be from his good graces or desire to view the play in a more cultivated and refined atmosphere, Rufus Shinra sought to have the theater built to his tastes. </p><p>A cultured man would have appreciated the rich ambiance of warm burgundy walls and chairs, gold colored arches, and the high tiered ceiling checkered with incandescent chandeliers that bathed the venue in a tepid glow. A cultured man would have appreciated the laminate stage with its heavy, rippling ebony curtains and musical pit that lay before it like an open, shadowed chasm. A cultured man would have also enjoyed the musical accompaniment composed of strings, horns, and a grand piano that lent a powerful backdrop to the emotionally poignant poetic prose.</p><p>Reno was not a cultured man. In fact, he was far out of his element. In ditching the Turk suit for something slightly less intimidating, he fashioned a light blue blazer and white dress shirt tucked appropriately into gray trousers, all of which felt a little too <em>normal</em> for him.</p><p>Dates were also out of his element. He was a simple man with simple needs, yet he felt the distinct desire to go the extra mile for their first public outing together. Despite the trepidation that seized his throat like a choke-hold, he wanted to show her he was worth the effort.</p><p>It was quite the sacrifice, especially when his focus dissolved minutes after the opening act. His attention consistently pulled to the woman at his right throughout the performance, taking in the sight with unabashed salacity. </p><p>With dark hair swept into a tight bun, he found his eyes drawn to the curve of her neck, his lips tingling for a taste. Her dress of choice did his libido no favors either; a sleek, powdery white number hugging her hips and bust, a dangerously high slit splitting at her thigh, and a pair of red ankle-strap that added inches, elongating a pair of smooth, milky legs. </p><p>It took everything he had to keep his hands and mouth to himself.</p><p>Tifa, however, took an acute interest in the production as well as the musical interlude. Claret eyes fell wide and pink lips curled with the joviality of a child in open wonder while they scanned the stage, trailing to each thespian as they spoke their verse with passionate eloquence.</p><p>Another time, Reno may have physically or verbally expressed his indifference on the spectacle, but the current company influenced a turn in behavior. Despite his disposition as an uncultured man, his desire to prove himself deserving of her company surpassed his desire to treat himself to her supple assets. Rather, he viewed the play through her glittering eyes that filled with the gleeful marvel of a caged bird suddenly free to take in the new world beyond the bars.</p><p>When she caught him staring, her enthusiastic smile only widened and brightened, her hand taking his own at the armrest where it hung curled and loose at its edge. </p><p>He could see it there, silent and unspoken, but he heard it all the same.</p><p>
  <em>Thank you.</em>
</p><p>It didn’t matter that he wasn’t a cultured man, it only mattered that she knew he tried.</p><p>A play hadn’t been his initial first thought when deciding where to take her after that late-night call, but he would have to thank his partner for the suggestion. As he viewed the raw delight reflecting through her features and the gentle rap of her fingers in tune with the melody of the ivories from the pit below, he felt himself swell with pride. </p><p>Tifa was happy, and he was responsible. </p><p>Applause resounded through the room upon the curtains’ closure when the production finally ended, jolting Reno from his distant thoughts.</p><p>He found crowds to be a nuisance; the cluster of claustrophobia enough to turn a currently amiable if not slightly bored temperament into a snarling, cornered canine. There was also a certain type of attention he had a habit of attracting whether in or out of Turk attire; his bright crop of red hair and its unique style could be seen like a flaming torch through the mouth of a cave. For the sake of his temper and maintaining the ambient mood, he had a better idea.</p><p>Instead of wrestling through the mob he relaxed, propping his feet up on the back of the now vacant chair in front of him. Tifa seemed to take the hint and remained seated while the other spectators hurried out or dawdled on.</p><p>“I think that tonight,” she said, hands clasping tightly to her knees, “I’ve realized just how much I’ve missed out on. The theater, music—just simple pleasures in life.”</p><p>Reno smirked, lacing his fingers behind his head, eyes suddenly fixated on the glowing orb of crystal above them. “Pretty sure we covered this once. Gotta make more time for yourself, yo.”</p><p>“I know, <em>be selfish.</em>”</p><p>His attention shifted to her then; the pads of her fingers thoughtlessly brushing the wisps of loose strands from her face as her lips turned upward with the motion. It was only then he began to take notice of the calming tranquility that brought respite to the restlessness that consumed him. Even when he felt the tendrils of shame and self-reproach threaten to take him under, to remind him how undeserving he was of an existence free of the turmoil that his past misdeeds and present remorse brought upon him, she provided a light that chased off the doubt which lurked in the far corners of his mind. </p><p>“Did you even <em>watch </em>the play? You seemed to be distracted...” It was clear by the gentle tease of her expression that she’d come to notice his observational skills were directed elsewhere throughout the production as well. </p><p>“I’ve seen it before.” </p><p>Her head angled to the side as she peered at him inquisitively, "Would you mind elaborating?”</p><p>“Aren’t we curious?” Reno heaved a sigh before indulging her. “Guard duty with the President. He loves this kind of shit, and for some reason Tseng thought it a hoot to saddle me by his post. I got to witness this lovely play opening night and once more a week later.”</p><p>“You don’t sound too enthusiastic about the assignment.”</p><p>“Eh, well, I was reassigned to chauffeur duty after the last one. Guess the President didn’t take a liking to my recount of the performance.” Which was sheer mockery of the drivel, but he wasn’t about to tell her that.  </p><p>“So... you didn’t go willingly.” She gave him a knowing smile.</p><p>Reno rolled his eyes and threw off his heels from the edge of the headrest. The crowd had noticeably thinned outside of a few stragglers who’d become caught in conversations or other couples who had also decided to linger behind to avoid the herd just as they had. “Is there a point to this interrogation?”</p><p>She gave a slight shrug, the crimson shawl shifting across her shoulders. “I just want to know why we’re here.” </p><p>Loathe to tell her the truth, that it was just for her, that he hoped to show her there was a bit of shine beneath the grime, he chose to skirt around it. “Figured you might like this classy shit.” </p><p>Tifa looked thoughtful for time. “I enjoyed it. But…” a lopsided smile appeared as she glanced over at him, “I’d rather we do something we both enjoy next time.”</p><p>Reno’s thoughts quickly dropped into obscene territory. His barriers weren’t much more than glass, cracking and fracturing throughout the night while within achingly close and tortuous proximity. By some miracle however, it remained intact. </p><p>He propped a forearm against the armrest and leaned in. “The nights’ not over yet. Unless you’re lookin’ to get home in a hurry.”</p><p>Shaking her head, she placed her hand on his arm. She gave it a tight squeeze. “I have plenty of time. Where to?”</p><p>He fought against his default setting in suggesting the privacy of his pad, a suggestion driven by his second head. In keeping with classier, more sophisticated appearances, he pulled out a different idea that was less infused with sexual undertones. “Let’s take a walk. There’s a park not too far from here.”</p><p>“A park?” she chuckled, a sound without mockery but mild bewilderment. “I didn’t take you for the park type.”</p><p>A much more lecherous comment began to form on his tongue before he swallowed it whole and went for something innocuous. “Yeah well, there’s a lot you still don’t know.” He stood and offered his hand to her, “You coming?”</p><p>With a nod she took it, standing to meet him. No longer separated by the barricade, he felt the electric charge, the sharp crackle that coasted across his extremities. He steeled himself against the primal calling, one that was deafeningly thunderous, and simply led her out of the theater and onto the busy streets of Edge.</p><p>Night had completely fallen over the city, the velvet black above etched with the glow of starlight melding with the illumination that tall, steel-poled streetlamps had to offer. While Reno was not one to pay mind to the beauty of his surroundings, he found himself oddly enchanted by the peaceful atmosphere of the sparsely populated park and the company that joined him. </p><p>They strolled the path lined with white and yellow lilies on either side of the walkway that circled the area in a loop while newly planted saplings stood dotted along the small, open plain. They passed by other pedestrians who took the opposing direction, each lost within their own hushed conversations. </p><p>Reno realized he was enjoying the simplicity of the companionable silence between them, finding that it was far more comforting than filling it with needless words and phrases that held no meaning. Even the lewd and crude comments and jokes he was so apt to impart somehow climbed up his throat and died there before they found his voice. The mood was too genuine, too serene for even him to distort with depravity.</p><p>These changes surprised him. Dates were a non-existent part of his past, sooner to take a woman down a back alleyway and selfishly get his rocks off. Instead, he watched a play he hated and suggested a walk in the park. While his carnal desires were alive and well, screaming to be satisfied, he dug up a bit of uncharacteristic restraint and sophistication to show her he was a bit more than a good lay.</p><p>It surprised him how much he needed her to know that.</p><p>His inner analysis was interrupted when Tifa's grip slacked and inevitably released its hold. With eyes downcast, he caught the nibble of her bottom lip. Her gait slowed its stride and her form took on a certain stiffness, all of which would have perhaps been missed by a passing glance. However, it was more than conspicuous to the hawkish observation of a Turk, even within the peripheral of his vision.</p><p>He had studied and observed her idiosyncrasies long enough to know the signs of silent panic, and while he didn't know the direct cause, he had a pretty reliable hunch.</p><p>Turning, he slowly approached her with a slightly narrowed gaze, “What’s wrong?”</p><p>Several seconds ticked by before Tifa seemed to find the courage to speak. “I saw some people I know, from the school. They were talking.” </p><p>He regarded her calmly as her words filtered through his mind. A pair began to take shape; a stare lingering a little too long as whispered chatter exchanged ears as they passed them by. Yet, he didn’t seem to connect the two as a problem. “Yeah so? People talk.”</p><p>Her expression twisted with regret, however she remained still, “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.” </p><p>It occurred to him then how naive he’d been. He should have known that despite her confidence on the call that she wasn’t ready for a public outing. It should have been obvious to him this was bound to be a mistake, that she was going to crack under public scrutiny when those closest to her were still in the dark. </p><p>However, her effort hadn’t gone unnoticed, and that alone warmed him even as uncertainty began to slither its way into the forefront of his mind.</p><p>“This city ain’t that big, yo. This was bound to happen,” he stated a bit more harshly than he’d intended.</p><p>“I’m not ashamed, if that’s what you’re wondering,” she offered quickly with hint of desperation. She took a step to close the distance.</p><p>Part of him didn’t believe that either; the far more pessimistic side of his brain infested with doubt. It was the part of him that remained ever so convincing he didn’t deserve her, that it was far more merciful to shoot what they had between the eyes and put an end to any future suffering. </p><p>Eventually he would break her.</p><p>The space narrowed further, Tifa standing not much more than a few inches away. A stubborn determination had seeped in, her lips set firm into a tight line, worry highlighting her features. He saw hope behind the fear, her conviction push through the hurdles and obstacles that stood in her way to reach him. </p><p>It came to him then, the currency he needed to pay to prove the risk to reward ratio was worth the gamble. He needed to show her he was worth the investment.</p><p>Reno sensed the air between them turned tense and fragile, brought on by his prolonged silence and the uncertainty of their progression. He reached for her hand, testing the waters of her comfort level. To his surprise and relief, she waded through and accepted the gesture, holding to it firmly within her grasp.</p><p>“Why don’t you come to my place then.” He hesitated before resolving to move forward with the offer, “I’ll show you something that you might be interested in.”</p><p>Curiosity crossed over her countenance, along with a bit of amusement that curled at her mouth. “Are you going to tell me what it is?”</p><p>“Well it’s not a sex dungeon, I can tell you that.” When she huffed a laugh, he felt the last bit of the tension drain away. He grew somber as the gravity of his intentions weighed on him. The subject matter wasn’t light-hearted, but one of the darkest blips of his past he fought to forget. “You’ll see.”</p><p>A brief moment passed before she nodded her agreement to go, and he was pulling his phone free to call a car.</p><p>The trek to his apartment was all a bit of a blur to Reno, from the moment they entered the cab to the moment they walked into the lift at his apartment, bound for the fifth floor. His mind roamed to visit the darkest corners of his thoughts, recreating the lost file of his early years, a file that only Shinra had any details on, a file even Rude knew nothing about. </p><p>Suddenly he wanted to renege the offer; to bury it, to lock it away and pretend it didn’t exist. He was no longer sure he wanted to relive it, no longer certain he could recall the events without bile climbing the back of his throat and leaving behind a searing reminder that life sometimes was just shit and there was nothing you could ever hope to do about.</p><p>Tifa remained quiet but close, seemingly aware of the clouding aura that grew more and more palpable as they neared his home. A gentle touch to his arm as he leaned back against the stainless steel wall of the enclosure helped temporarily still the pitching ship that rocked within the pit of his gut. Regardless, he remained deeply unsettled by the thought of what he intended to reveal to her. </p><p>The lift shuddered as it completed its ascension, the doors splitting wide to reveal a dimly lit hall. Even as he led the way to his apartment, his mind teetered on a seesaw of indecision. Maybe he just wasn’t ready. Maybe this really was a mistake.</p><p>Maybe he needed to stop being a Goddamn pussy and just be a fucking man about it.</p><p>Reno fished through his coat pocket for his keys once they approached their destination. White, italicized numbers reading <em>503 </em>stood against the dark, wooden backdrop of the door. Pulling the set free, a few seconds of clarity whipped through his mind and realized two things at once as he palmed the weight of them—he was about to let Tifa into his private home life and his place was a boxed-up disaster.</p><p>“I need to warn you,” he said, slipping the key into the lock. Turning it, he was rewarded with a sharp <em>click</em> in reply, “it’s a little chaotic in there.”</p><p>“Should I be worried…?” </p><p>Reno didn’t bother answering her verbally, intending to show her the evidence visually. Pushing open the door, he crossed the threshold and flipped a switch beside the door frame. A series of overhead light fixtures flickered on, filling the room with a soft illumination against whitewashed walls. She slipped in behind as he held the door and watched her as she took in the view.</p><p>On the surface, it appeared as though he only just moved into the space, beginning to unpack what little life he had from unmarked cardboard boxes before giving up entirely to live in a disorganized mess. Several of them lay open around the living room they entered, various contents spilling out onto the hardwood floor which managed to stay mostly clear, light reflecting from its polished shine. A simple cherrywood coffee table stood in front of a black leather couch positioned against the back wall to the left of them, each surface covered in either loose papers, bottles of various beers and liquors, or discarded clothing. There seemed to be a single, open area on the sofa at its center, clear enough for one person to sit comfortably.</p><p>Tifa cautiously moved further in, a tight, curious expression on her face as she continued to survey the space. “When did you move in here…?”</p><p>Locking the door behind them, Reno approached the coffee table, his eye catching a piece of less than tasteful media and quickly flipped the magazine over. “Eh, six months? Give or take three.”</p><p>Her shoulders shook in amusement as she motioned a few steps toward the island to the right of the entrance—equally cluttered with papers and trinkets—that separated the kitchen from the living area. Her fingers gingerly touched the gray granite counter tops as she glanced to the two cushioned bar stools stood beneath the lip, appearing virtually unused. The kitchen itself was adequate in size, and generally clear of dishes and utensils minus a few stacked within the double sink by the refrigerator. </p><p>“And you’re <em>still </em>living out of boxes?” She looked over her shoulder to him, a playful glimmer to her eyes.</p><p>He scoffed with an eye roll and gestured around them, “<em>Excuse </em>me, but this is a judge free zone here. The door is right over there if you can’t follow the rules, sweetheart.”</p><p>She gave a final once over before she smirked with a slight nod, “You’re right. I’m sorry.”</p><p>Rather quickly, Reno realized that he couldn’t remember the last time he’d brought a woman home. Yet, while her scrutiny ruffled his feathers and made him defensive, he also found himself slightly ashamed at the state of his place. </p><p>Tifa deserved better than this.</p><p>“Look, I work a lot,” he began to explain, shoving his hands into his trouser pockets with a look of slight guilt that fit better on a teenager who failed to clean their room, “I’m hardly ever here. Just hasn’t been high on my list of priorities.”</p><p>Tifa smiled, setting her clutch and shawl on one of the bar stools. “I get it. I’m just happy to be here with you.” </p><p>As he watched her turn to the island and gather the various loose parchment scattered about the surface, he felt a lump begin to formulate in his throat, hands perspiring within his pockets. With her there, within his personal haven of solitude, it felt too <em>right </em>to make any sense to him. He felt his mind begin to sputter, phantom hands clutching at the edge of a precipice he was slipping from. </p><p>“You don’t have to do that, you know.” </p><p>“I know,” she said, setting the stack to the corner of the counter, “but I want to. I’m just... paying it forward.”</p><p>After hours at Seventh Heaven came to Reno’s mind then; the times he’d helped her close, assisting in various chores, always of his own accord. At the time, he was sure he’d done so selfishly, to reap the rewards a bar owner would provide. But now as he watched her tidy his mess and do so with a smile, he knew he did it for another reason entirely, one that had been brewing for far longer than he’d given any mind to notice. </p><p>The ledge disappeared, and he was weightless with the revelation.</p><p>Reno made his decision.</p><p>Breaking himself from his reverie, it didn’t take long for him to locate what he was looking for, the reason why he brought her there. Beneath the chaos of his coffee table lay a piece of his past that represented far too much pain that he kept hidden in the dark. </p><p>He crossed the room and dropped a plastic bag on the island in front of her. Within it lay a single bullet, not much more than a nub of coppery metal nestled within its plastic confinement. A name in bold, black text was printed across—a name he could never seem to drink away.</p><p>Tifa stopped her task and looked from the bag to him with soft empathy, her question ringing out into the air that blared against his eardrums like a siren. “Poppy? Your sister Poppy?”</p><p>Not long after he’d first brought her up to Tifa, he dug through boxes that contained his life to locate the only thing he had left of a family that was wiped from history. The memory burned him, and that night he drowned in a steady waterfall of the drink to wash away the regret of his loss he was forever doomed to repeat. </p><p>“I told you I’d tell you one day,” he said solemnly.</p><p>Reno moved into the kitchen and pulled out two beers from his largely empty fridge. Clutching the bottles between his fingers, he screwed the caps from the necks and set one on a clear patch of the island as he held the other with a vacant stare. It had been years since he’d spoken of her in detail, but he dared to wonder if it was time to air the past and release a weight that bared down on him during the best and worst of days.</p><p>He dared to wonder if he was ready to stand in the blood of the memory.</p><p>Tifa approached him slowly, cautiously, as if he were a wounded animal. A tentative hand reached for his face only to be caught at the wrist. He found her uneasy eyes and pressed his lips against her palm.</p><p>“I told you it’s not pretty,” he let her arm fall to her side.</p><p>She reached for the opened brew, holding the chilled bottle within both hands as she leaned a hip against the counter. “I’m ready.”</p><p>With a deep sigh, he sagged against the refrigerator. “I was eighteen when I had my first official Turk assignment. They paired me with a seasoned Turk called Bones. Ironic name, because this fucker could literally shatter your bones with one punch. Think of Rude, but paler, taller, and an additional twenty-five lbs. of mass.” </p><p>The picture of the past started as a blank canvas, and with each stroke of the proverbial brush, he illustrated the vision. “The assignment was pretty simple—hit up a dealer at their drug den for back payment from their profit margin. They were easy to find, holed up in an abandoned building in the Sector Four slums. Shinra used to have a three-strike rule; you failed to pay the full sum the third time, you were done, permanently.” </p><p>Reno smirked, tossing a damp hand through his hair. “This fuck... he <em>begged </em>for more time. Said he’d get the rest of the payment at midnight, and all we needed to do was wait for it. I thought that maybe that’s all it was. But Bones knew better, that the wait was a setup, and put a bullet in the guys’ mouth. Orders were to terminate all targets within the den if it came to that. So, we did.” </p><p>He spared a quick glance at Tifa, who watched him quietly, before he fixed his gaze to the bullet. “Bones did most of the killing. I only managed to take out a few—shot the ones spazzing out on whatever shit they were high on and didn’t see my gun coming for ‘em. After the third one, I got sick. By luck, or something more insidious, I found the toilet and hurled. And there she was…” </p><p>“Poppy,” he heard Tifa whisper. </p><p>Mindlessly, he picked and peeled at the label of his bottle while the vision became clearer. “Yeah, Poppy. It’d been some years since I saw her, but it was impossible for me not to recognize her. She was high, track lines, hair matted. I could only see the whites of her eyes. Couldn’t snap her out of it either—I’m pretty sure she didn’t know I was there.”</p><p>Reno stiffened, bits of the paper label in a small pile at his feet. “Bones came up behind me, and just like that... he shot her between the eyes over my shoulder. She was only fourteen, just a kid, but it didn’t matter.”</p><p>A look of horror washed over Tifa’s face, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to look at it. “I tried to kill him with my bare fucking hands. Didn't occur to me to shoot the asshole until the mother fucker pistol whipped me till I was damn near unconscious. Needless to say, my first mission was a personal failure. But big Boss took pity on me, and I didn’t fuck up a second time. But Bones hated my guts after that, and I wanted to burn that asshole with everything in me. However, outright killing your colleagues was kinda frowned upon back then.”</p><p>He pulled a swig from his beer, its contents having lost its cold bite. It moistened the thick dryness of his mouth and throat, but the taste was bitter and vile. “As per Shinra’s way, we covered it up. Our <em>investigation </em>concluded it was a drug deal gone wrong. Forensics went in, collected the evidence, bagged it and tagged it. That right there,” he gestured to the bag, “was a personal gift from Bones, a sweet reminder of our <em>wonderful </em>time together.”</p><p>Silence dropped over them, and Reno simply didn’t know what to expect from her. The picture was complete, a time in history that shaped him into who he was as a Turk. A man who buried his pain in booze and sex and never thought of the consequences of his actions. It was a moment that influenced his necessity to destroy his conscience and never look back.</p><p>She couldn’t possibly understand.</p><p>“What happened to Bones?” Her voice was even and surprisingly calm, attention locked to the open neck of her beer. It remained within her tense grip, the drink within it untouched.</p><p>Reno considered telling her he played the long con with Bones, studied his habits to discover an isocaine addiction. He considered telling her they forged a lukewarm bond over the substance, one he never actually touched himself but kept the ruse to pull the wool over his targets’ eyes. He could have told her during one night within a Wall Market strip club he gave Bones a gift, a bag filled with his powdery pleasure only to be laced heavily with fentaylcine. He could have told her Bones snorted all contents greedily within a private back room Reno personally paid handsomely for. He could have told her he watched merrily as the hulk of a man convulsed violently before his heart gave out and Death carried him off to the Lifestream. </p><p>He could have told her his revenge against his colleague did nothing to ease the pain of his loss and sought to numb it all with his liquid drug of choice to quell the nightmares that replayed the heinous events of his past in color quality.</p><p>Some nights, there never seemed to be enough of it.</p><p>Instead, he opted for something a bit more benign. “He had an accident.”</p><p>Her eyes grew dark as they finally lifted and locked with his own, moisture hovering along the rim. There was a fire in them he’d only seen once before, a time he ached to forget—atop the pillar of Sector Seven. </p><p>“That’s too bad.”</p><p>Reno stared at her, her gaze unwavering beneath his scrutiny. The lack of sincerity in her voice was jarring. She was holding back. “You don’t sound like you mean that.”</p><p>“What they did, what they made him do...” Tifa set her beer on the island, crossing the kitchen to stand in front of him, a quiver to her lips. Her expression was strained with emotion. “Shinra manipulated you. You could have been something else. You could have been <em>anything </em>else.”</p><p>Reno grinned ruefully, unmoving. “I made my choices.”</p><p>“Because they led you to them,” she insisted, her voice tense with it, “They forced your hand. He killed your family, <em>knowingly</em>. You see that, don’t you?”</p><p>The thought crossed his mind, and it certainly wouldn’t have been the first time he and his colleagues were manipulated into swearing fealty. “Don’t matter. It’s done, and he’s dead.”</p><p>Her brows drew together as an expression of repressed rage crowded her face, “And I’m really not sorry to hear that. Not in the least.”</p><p>Reno saw it, he <em>heard</em> it. The raw, passionate protection, the anger that reared its head and wanted to roar in the face of his injustice. </p><p>It wanted to roar for <em>him</em>. </p><p>“You mean that?” he murmured, the air around them suddenly void of oxygen.</p><p>He watched her eyes soften, her pursed lips easing into a small, sorrowful smile, “I do. She deserved better. <em>You</em> deserve better.”</p><p>It hit him like a tidal wave, swallowing him whole and taking him out to sea. He let it, the feeling that engulfed him, freely caught in the riptide. He couldn’t control it, and he didn’t bother to. He didn’t <em>want</em> to.</p><p>“Tifa…” he breathed, his hand rising to cup her face, thumb grazing her lips. Her eyes fluttered and he knew it wasn’t long before his control crumbled to nothing. </p><p>The hammering of her heart seemed to beat in tandem with his own, and he realized she must have reached the peak of her restraint as well. Her expression transformed from melancholy to a rare and mischievous display. When her mouth parted to take his thumb between her teeth, her tongue sweeping the tip, his mind short-circuited and his body took over.</p><p>Reno was on her, beer abandoned and tipped over on the island as he took her mouth, hot and hungry. Her response was just as needy and feverish, lips parting to welcome him in. He accepted this invitation without hesitation, pressing her back against the counter behind her. Her stifled moan, the arch of her body against him, had him reeling, each of his senses overwhelmed by her scent, by her taste, by her touch. He was drowning.</p><p>He moved to make quick work of the clothing that stood in his way. Selfishly pawing at her flesh, his fingers searched the zipper to unwrap her. He managed to clasp and drag it down before his arm collided with the surface. He grunted in frustration, the barrier impeding his progress. She broke from him as he pulled her forward to finished the job, slipping from his embrace to handle the rest on her own. The look in her eye, lustful and wanton, threw him into a clouded haze of aggressive action on his own clothing.</p><p>The blazer at his shoulders disappeared. His shirt hung loose and missed a few buttons, his fingers having given up the patient fight and simply tore the garment wide open. His focus landed on Tifa, absent her dress, now pooled at her feet, and standing free of any inhibitions. He didn’t know the moment he fell, but as she stood there on display in silk undergarments and red high heels, he questioned why he hadn’t fallen sooner.</p><p>She closed the gap between them, capturing his mouth and flooding his urgency with delicious agony. The hunger consumed him, scorching him tender, and he all but dragged her with him into the living room.</p><p>It was Tifa who suddenly took charge, playfully shoving him against the clear space of the sofa where he flopped and stared with dark, hooded excitement. He trailed her every move as she took to her knees and relieved him of his belt, sliding it out from the loops of his trousers and casting off his shoes. He reached for her then, desperate to touch her. She shoved his hands away. </p><p>His pants and boxers were next, lifting his hips to assist in their removal, setting him free. Her nails clawed at his thighs down an agonizingly leisure path while she rose to stand over him with an air of cool confidence. He ached for her while watching her languid, deliberate movements, feeling his primal instincts take rise.</p><p>“Tifa…” he warned, his voice carefully controlled.</p><p>Wordlessly, she hooked her fingers through the sides of her panties, gliding them down her thighs and at her feet. Boldly, she let a single finger brush between her breasts, beyond her navel to disappear below her waist.</p><p>Desperation could no longer adequately describe it—he was delirious with it.  </p><p>Completely out of patience for her teasing, Reno lurched forward and yanked her to him by the wrist. She collapsed into his lap, straddling it with a gasp. Waves of her chocolate brown hair spilled from her bun, brushing against the slick skin of his chest. </p><p>He plunged his hand into those silken tresses and held firm, leaning forward to press his lips to the shell of her ear. “I’m going to fuck you now,” he paused, the throb of his arousal torturous. “Do you want that?”</p><p>Pulling back, he looked into a pair of glossy, blown out eyes that absolutely, silently begged for it.</p><p>Reno smirked, satisfied, and gripped her hips, guiding her onto him. Her cry of pleasure was immediate, the whole of him disappearing in one sheathing motion. Tifa clung to him, lips seeking him to muffle the rest of them, but he was having none of it. Hair still woven round his fingers, he pulled her head back to hear every single one of her sounds while he fucked her.</p><p>They were alone, and he wanted to hear it all. </p><p>Tifa answered his silent request with an opened mouth moan, her ecstasy reverberating off the walls and echoed like a sonar. He joined her the moment her hips moved, grinding against him, losing herself within the rhythm.</p><p>Reno was too close already, blood pounding in his ear, a resoundingly repetitive throb. A quick sweep of his arm sent the miscellaneous mess from the sofa flying and flipped her over to reposition. Instinctively, her thighs clamped around his waist and drove herself up to meet him.</p><p>Slowing the pace, he gazed down into her face, eyes screwed shut and humming with his languid thrusts. His chest constricted at the sight of her, remembering his revelation, his new understanding of what had been created between them.</p><p>“Are you mine?” he whispered heatedly; his hips suspended. </p><p>The thrum of his heart increased its tempo as he awaited the answer with bated breath. It could have been dismissed as bedroom talk, under the spell of desire, but it would have been a lie. He wanted to claim her. He wanted her to be <em>his.</em></p><p>Tifa opened her eyes, aglow with mutual hunger. Her smile spread wide across deeply flushed skin, fingers sliding into his scarlet hair. The grip was tight and almost painful, but he loved every second of it. “I’m yours, Reno,” she breathed, “I’m yours.”</p><p>He took her mouth in a bruising kiss, rewarding her handsomely for her reply. Control was slipping, the coil of it unraveling as he stood at the brink of the edge. His thrusts intensified, and her cries for him in response further sought to destroy him.</p><p>“You’re mine,” he declared with a growl, and it nearly came for him, the white-hot rapture. A slow convulsion overcame his body as her name fell from his tongue, his hips driving into her with a sudden ferocity he couldn’t hold back. </p><p>Tifa mewled for him, latched onto him as she quaked and clenched tightly around him, overwhelmed by the flood. Suddenly powerless to stop it, Reno followed only a mere few moments after, the searing brightness behind his eyes, the vibration rippling and rendering him useless as he collapsed in a boneless heap above her.</p><p>His breath left him as he lay motionless, failing again and again to adequately catch it. Her arms slide around him, cradling him in the aftermath. He was drifting still, within the high that erased the pain and guilt that tormented him, the ill begotten memories he had never been able to shake away. </p><p>Reno would stay there for as long as he could.</p><p>They shifted on the sofa—his body spread across the length of it with a foot against the ground as Tifa lay splayed out on top of him. Slowly, their pulses returned to a steady beat as the sweltering heat around them cooled to a more agreeable climate. </p><p>“I want you to come back to the bar. If you want to.” Tifa said after a time, her cheek to his chest, fingertips mindlessly toying with the tips of his ponytail.</p><p>Delicately, he grazed his fingers along her spine before settling his palm against the small of her back, “You sure?”</p><p>“Yeah. We still need to be careful of the kids, but I'll arrange a conversation with Barret. I have a feeling he’ll be coming home soon.”</p><p>“Did he say anything to you?”</p><p>“No, but something is going on with Shinra and WRO and he’ll need to be informed. I imagine a phone call won’t go over well.” She paused, “I know about Rude, too.”</p><p>Reno’s brows furrowed at that. “Yuffie spill the beans?”</p><p>There was a long lull of silence before she answered. “Please don’t say anything.”</p><p>He let out a small sound, something between a grunt and a cough. “Nothing to gain from telling anyone anyway. Consider my lips sealed."</p><p>She sighed, her body further relaxing against his frame. “If you want to talk about Rude—”</p><p>“No offense babe,” he interrupted, placing a kiss against the top of her head as if to soften the upcoming blow, “but can we not talk about him right now? I just fucked your brains out and you’re asking about my best friend.”</p><p>In truth, it was a subject he wasn’t thrilled to broach then, if at all. Rude was a long-standing fixture in his life, a pillar of stability and while he wasn’t exactly dying or moving to Wutai, things were bound to drastically change. Reno preferred a bit more time before he was forced to face it. </p><p>“Are you jealous?” There was a playful note to her tone.</p><p>He grinned, happy to jump in and play the game. “Who wouldn’t be? Shiny bald head, broad shoulders, hung like a Goddamn Behemoth. Maybe you should date him instead of me. Hell, maybe <em>I </em>should date him.”</p><p>She laughed, and he found himself laughing with her. “I think I’m satisfied with what I have.”</p><p>“Suit yourself. You’re missing out on Grade A beefcake.”</p><p>It surprised him just how comfortable he felt with her; during conversation, whimsical banter, or within the void of silence, he was enamored by the serenity of each moment they spent together.</p><p>Tifa stirred, rising from her position to sit between his legs. He noted how her hair was a wreck, her bra straps were misaligned at the shoulders, and the hefty smudges of mascara that aligned her eyelids. </p><p>He also noted how painfully gorgeous she was.</p><p>“So what now?” </p><p>Reno rose to his elbows, peering at her curiously. “You stayin’?”</p><p>A sudden flash of something bloomed over her face, fidgeting with several strands of her hair. “Only if you want me to. I don’t want to impose.”</p><p>It occurred to him he’d never had a woman stay with him overnight, always quick to book it himself or usher the visitor out the door and into a cab before they got too comfortable.</p><p>This was, of course, different.</p><p>“What’s your babysitter have to say about this?”</p><p>“I told her not to expect me.” </p><p>A slow, wild grin spread across his mouth. “Why you little minx…”</p><p>Tifa quickly shook her head, averting her eyes to the floor as her face flushed pink. “Sorry, I realize how assuming that was.”</p><p>As much as he would have loved to tease her red about it, what he wanted much more than that was to keep her.</p><p>Sitting up, he curved a trail from her hairline to her jaw. “Stay. I ain’t done with you yet, anyway.”</p><p>Mortification drained away in an instant, and shortly after he brought her to his bedroom where he brought them both to complete exhaustion.</p><p>Sleep took her under first. She rested soundlessly beside him, wrapped snugly in a bed sheet. Silently he watched her as the high slowly spiraled down, wondering if perhaps it was all too good to be true, that come morning the curtain would fall and the play of his good fortune would be over. </p><p>It felt too right and equally foreign. She wasn’t supposed to fit into his life, into his existence so easily, but somehow, she did. Somehow, she managed to stand as another fixture in his life that steadied him, made him feel less like a monster and more like a man.</p><p>Tifa deserved the best he had to give.</p><p>Eventually sleep found him too, and for the first time since he’d drawn his first blood, absent the visit of his liquid crutch, the nightmares that plagued his slumber were nowhere to be found.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Family</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Once again, I would like to thank every single person who has commented and provided kudos to this story. You honestly don't know how much your recognition means to me and I am eternally grateful for it. It gives me joy and motivation to keep truckin'.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> Family </em>
</p><p>Reality called to them the following morning, drawing them into the arms of their separate responsibilities. </p><p>The kids were already in school by the time Tifa made it back to Seventh Heaven, Yuffie having successfully delivered them with pre-packed lunches. There was also no escape from interrogation, but Tifa gave a generous recount of the evening with the company of butterflies in her belly. She kept the details limited, but the flush of her cheeks and the sparkle of her eyes were enough to convey the success of the outing. She felt like a teenager again, with Yuffie more than willing to play the role of the gushing and supportive best friend.</p><p>Tifa wished everyone could share those sentiments.</p><p>Her head disappeared high into the clouds and remained there well after her Yuffie left. Her time with Reno filled her to the brim. It left her even more determined to surpass the blockade the rest of family presented, one which hindered their paths from merging. He showed a version of himself that was self sacrificing and vulnerable. It strengthened a resolve that once stood on shaky ground but now rose tall and firm with conviction. He was doing what he could to prove his value, and she wouldn’t take that for granted. </p><p>An evening call from Barret offered the opportunity to spread the word much sooner than she was prepared for.</p><p>Summoned by Reeve, Barret would travel to WRO Headquarters to discuss certain changes within the structure of each department, including his own. He was in the dark as to any of the specifics, and it took all she had to keep quiet regarding her own knowledge of them. </p><p>His official visit to the family would come the day after, and she mentally prepared for his anger. He would likely proclaim betrayal, wave his fists about as he scaled to the peak of his rage, only to come down with a thundering crash of defeat while vowing never to work with any of Shinra’s scum. </p><p>Despite her resolve to come clean, battling against a Weapon was suddenly more preferable than confessing. Against such a creature, she could use force instead of finesse. This was a whole different monster that required a cautious delivery that didn’t see him spitting bullets. Despite her apprehension, she no longer wished to keep it hidden as a shameful secret and wanted to live freely. Things changed whether he liked it or not, and she hoped he could accept that.</p><p>It had been two days since that call. </p><p>As was commonplace for Tifa, she distracted herself with the kids, the bar, and anything else she could to keep her mind off of what was coming toward her with the speed of a high-powered locomotive. The punching bag in the garage felt the brunt of her stress, leather bound fists striking relentlessly against the heavy target. With no tangible enemy to envision, her hits were aimless and chaotic. While it was successful in relieving the tension she carried, the fear that haunted her refused to grant reprieve.</p><p>Overtime required Reno’s full attention during that period, and it left her feeling terribly lonesome. She couldn’t quite repel the ill feeling that dragged along her skin like a sickness, the impending arrival of her friend twisting her stomach into knots. She texted Reno, notifying him of what was to come. While his responses were genuinely supportive, she feared facing it alone. The path ahead was littered with vines and thorns, impeding the way, but she knew she had to cut through to see the other side.</p><p>For now, she didn’t want to think about it. She was content with waiting until tomorrow to deal with the second coming of a calamity. Instead, Tifa busied herself with the evening open of the bar, diving headfirst into the part of her life that required the least amount of thought possible, preventing the downward spiral that she would have otherwise succumbed to. </p><p>A misty rain swept through the city, just enough to pave the streets and roads slick. Patrons tracked behind unsightly footprints across the floor throughout the night to which Denzel proudly took the task in keeping it spotless and hazard free. The weather didn’t stop her regulars from arriving at her watering hole, nor did it stop a certain Turk.</p><p>Reno took position at his typical perch. His presence drew Denzel’s attention immediately, leading him to abandon his task with a quickness. Marlene sat a stool away with her new art pad and pencil set courtesy of Yuffie, not much more than a scribble on the paper, while watching the man curiously as he flashed her a grin. </p><p>Tifa just managed to provide him his beverage before the boy approached. Climbing onto the stool between Reno and Marlene, he chatted the former's’ ear off with reports of his household responsibilities and the physical ‘training’ he undertook with his schoolmates to become stronger. Between the real world dangers he already encountered and the knowledge that things could go belly up at any moment, he wanted to be prepared to protect his family. </p><p>If Reno issued a look that called for rescue, Tifa may have felt inclined to intervene. To her surprise, he had exuded a patient energy while Denzel held a one way conversation. There was an unspoken connection the two seemed to share, one she didn’t quite understand but had no interest in severing. The closer the bond with the kids, the easier everything else would fall into place. </p><p>With a rag in hand, she left them to deliver a drink to a customer and wipe down the vacant tables. Within a far corner of the room, a pair of hushed voices spoke of something brewing within Edge that piqued her interest:</p><p>“What do you think that means for us?”</p><p>“It means same old shit, different city, that’s what it means. Edge’ll be Midgar 2.0 in no time.”</p><p>“Even if what you heard is true though, they’ve been at least helping grow the city into something livable.”</p><p>“You call that monument growth?”</p><p>“You know what I mean. Maybe it won’t be so bad this time.” </p><p>“Accept it if you want, I ain’t stayin’ for it. Shinra is a cancer to society; WRO should know better since their head honcho was in the thick of their tyranny.” </p><p>In contrast to Shinra, WRO was mostly thought of as a positive presence worldwide. Despite the good intentions Shinra had for the Planet and their active efforts toward reconstruction, it wasn’t surprising that some would remain skeptical as to their true purpose. Complete trust continued to be elusive.</p><p>However, the conversation was oddly specific to Edge.  </p><p>Something didn’t sit right.</p><p>Disengaging from the conversation, she casually shoved in an askew chair into place and walked back to her post. </p><p>The sound of childish giggles filled the air as she returned behind the bar, Reno providing a gaggle of silly faces at Denzel and Marlene coming into view. With colored pencil in hand, Marlene appeared to be trying her best to sketch the red-headed model, but her little hand shifted erratically against the parchment as laughter rumbled through her. </p><p>Tifa felt her heart flutter straight to her throat.</p><p>The picture of the three of them burst with colorful vibrancy, and she didn’t dismiss the feeling of how deceptively right it felt. Whether Reno’s ease in handling them was innate or forced, it made no difference to her one way or the other—she adored every moment she witnessed.</p><p>Still, her subconscious needled against her temple, a layer of sorrow washing over her. No matter the connection or time passed, some things would always be true. As she gazed between Reno and Denzel, she knew this to be painfully so. </p><p>Blinking back the prickling sting of her eyes, she casually strolled to the trio with a curious smile. “What’s going on here?”</p><p>Reno pulled his fingers from the corners of his mouth and flashed an impish smirk. “I was hoping to get a specialized portrait from the artist here, but she can’t seem to take her job seriously.” The playful wink at Marlene did the child no favors, her girlish glee continuing as she struggled to steady her hand.</p><p>Denzel seemed to come back to himself, the joviality of his expression lingering. “You’re not taking it seriously. She can’t draw with your face scrunched up like it was.”</p><p>“What? I thought she was a professional. Boy, did I get my information twisted,” he clicked his tongue in disappointment with a slight shake of his head. “False advertisement.”</p><p>“It is not. Let me try again,” the girl demanded, her large eyes expressive with determination.</p><p>“Another day,” Tifa interjected. “Time to go upstairs and get ready for bed. School night, you know.”</p><p>Disappointment colored their expressions as they slipped from their stools and padded toward the steps. They reached the bottom before Marlene abruptly returned to Tifa’s side, craning her head over the top of the bar toward Reno. </p><p>“Will you come back tomorrow so I can try again?” Marlene asked. “I’ll get it right.”</p><p>Denzel had wandered back and stood beside her to await the answer, his nimble fingers toying with the hem of his shirt in anticipation. </p><p>“Not tomorrow. Barret comes home,” Tifa said.</p><p>While the acknowledgment flickered in their eyes, dread clouded hers. A dark haze draped over her mind and set off the disquiet of it. </p><p>Reno grazed the children's faces before his attention settled on Tifa. He could read her well. She didn’t hide from him.  </p><p>“Not tomorrow, but soon,” he said, leaning over to grin wryly at the children. “I asked for a portrait, didn’t I? You’d better deliver.”</p><p>Shoving off feelings of unrest, Tifa brushed her fingers against the top of Denzel and Marlene’s heads, smiling down at them. “You heard him. Now off with you.”</p><p>Final good nights followed as they retreated to the steps. Once they were gone, Tifa felt Reno’s eyes zero in on her as she mindlessly grabbed a cloth and wiped down the counter. “Something bothering you?”</p><p>“A bit, yeah,” she admitted quietly. “I’m just not totally sure what to expect with Barret tomorrow. Talking to him about us will be pretty explosive at first, but hopefully he’ll come around quickly.”</p><p>He arched a brow at her skeptically. “You know Wallace to come around quickly to anything other than rage?”</p><p>The smile she gave was wistful. “Sometimes.” </p><p>Sometimes with a side of never was the truth of it, and she’d been gearing herself for the inevitable fallout. He’d be angry, he would sulk, but she hoped he’d eventually accept what was. She would have to be patient.</p><p>Reno pulled a cigarette from his pack and lit up, his tongue bathed in cynicism. “And you’re actually planning to tell him about us on the cusp of something like this?”</p><p>The question slowly unraveled her fortitude. “I was. You think I shouldn’t?”</p><p>“You know him better than I do, but I’d rather have you in one piece, not several.” There was humor somewhere in his manner, but the sudden throb of her head drowned it out.</p><p>Tifa dropped her arms to the bar, the weight of her leaning into them with a sigh. “Maybe you could be there with me.”</p><p>The grin that spread across his mouth did not fill her with any confidence. “A double homicide? How romantic.”</p><p>“Be serious.” </p><p>“I seriously think he’ll fill me with bullets if I’m there with you, yo.” His snicker didn’t erase her flare of anxiety, and the silence that smothered them must have tipped him off. He curled his hand over her forearm, the brush of his thumb sending a comforting surge through her. “If you really want me there, I’ll be there. But I’m pretty sure seeing me is just gonna piss him off.”</p><p>She knew he wasn’t off the mark. Bringing everything to light could violently disrupt the foundation and send everything crumbling down around her all on its own. Bringing a symbol of his hatred to the table was likely to ruin any hope of civility. </p><p>“You’re right. I’ll figure it out,” Tifa said, smiling reassuringly. </p><p>He only nodded after that, retracting his hand. He took a pull from his beer and a drag from his smoke as a certain pensiveness swept over his features, lost in his rumination. </p><p>Her uneasiness reared its ugly, nasty head. Did he have doubts just like she did? Was this all still worth the effort? Was this a mistake?</p><p>Tifa didn’t ask what he was thinking—she didn’t want to know. </p><p>Down the bar signaled a customer, and she quickly took off to tend to them. </p><p>Reno watched her leave as he bunkered down into his thoughts and considered their position. </p><p>A black foreboding entered his head at their discussion, and it did not serve him well. There were assurances between them, and Tifa’s obvious resolution to follow through with her decision gave him a semblance of security that all would eventually fall into place. However, he couldn’t shake loose the lead weight shackled his ankles threatening to pull him under.</p><p>During his days and nights with Shinra, there was success in establishing a restructure from power a company to government entity. There were conversations regarding how to handle the inevitable backlash from the populace while attempting to maintain a less abrasive image. People like Wallace came to mind, those determined to repel Shinra’s influence from ever taking root in power again. Whether or not they knew it, Shinra had been pulling the strings for quite some time, already deeply entrenched within the soil of society.</p><p>One positive that came from it all was the reestablished duties that were much more in line with what he’d always done as a Turk, minus some aggressiveness of his position from previous years. Collecting and gathering information was preferable to desk duty and bodyguard work, especially with a new Turk recruitment program in the works. Losing Rude would leave a crater in the ranks, and replacements for his loss were a necessity.</p><p>With all things considered, he had no illusions that the admission of his and Tifa’s romance wouldn’t be a cakewalk for anyone, particularly with what would look to be a Shinra takeover. Wallace was a blowhard, but the seething hatred he held for Reno and his kind shouldn’t be underestimated. </p><p>A couple hours passed before Tifa sought to close the bar, clientele dwindling to less than a handful in numbers. He noted her tired eyes and stiff movements around the bar. The stress and pressure was affecting her physically, her fear much more pronounced than she seemed to let on. It worried him.</p><p>With the door locked and the blinds closed, he was by her side with sleeves rolled to his elbows, patting dry each dish or glass she handed to him. It felt natural to help her, an automated response after months of slow programming. Cleaning was something he’d left to others, often too lazy or tired to bother with himself. Somehow, she had changed all of that without even trying. </p><p>“So, what’s exactly going on with this merger?”</p><p>The question snapped him back to reality. “I thought you knew what was up.”</p><p>She shook her head, handing off a cleaned glass for him to dry. “I know about Shinra giving funds to WRO, and some Shinra workers transferring to WRO. But I heard something today, something about Edge being Midgar 2.0.”</p><p>It seemed Yuffie hadn’t been as chatty as he originally thought. Suddenly he wasn’t so thrilled to be the one to give her the news.</p><p>He took the offered glass, gliding a tattered cloth around the surface. “It’s less of a merger and more of a quid pro quo.” He noted her expression of confusion and commented further, “Rufus is letting whatever staff he’s got that wants to get out, to go to WRO. In exchange for that and his money, he wants to govern Edge.”</p><p>Tifa pulled her hands from the water, turning to look at him fully. There wasn’t just confusion, but a hint of disbelief. “You can’t be serious.” </p><p>“I know, it sounds bad,” he conceded. </p><p>“Bad? Edge has been a free city since its construction. The sudden rise of Shinra’s order isn’t going to sit well with anyone here. You must have considered that.” </p><p>“You say it like it was my idea,” Reno said, his ministrations on the glass a bit more forceful than required.</p><p>She looked sheepish. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to. I’m just worried.”</p><p>He didn't blame her. Looking in from the outside, it appeared dirty. Even from the inside, it had a stench to it. But they’d come this far on the road of redemption. Why fuck it up now?  “Don’t be. There’s gonna be some checks and balances. Kinda like guard rails so Boss doesn’t fall out of the bed again and land on his million gil face.”</p><p>“That’s comforting, I suppose. Are you worried at all that he might push against those checks and balances?” </p><p>Reno shrugged, his attention still focused on the same glass, pointedly removing all specks and smudges. “I think the boss has lost his appetite for grandiose ambitions.”</p><p>Controlling a city that was fully aware of Shinra's past atrocities was exhausting enough, and expanding power across the planet a second time was a far less appealing endeavor. WRO planned to keep things in order, but he wondered just how efficiently they could considering the President was their sole investor.</p><p>“I see,” she mumbled, her gaze distant in contemplation.</p><p>Something about her withdrawal unsettled him. He offered more context to bring her back to him. “Power gives Rufus a stiffy, and even as he was giving WRO a cash flow, he still had some control over what it went to and how things were done. He still feels indebted to the Planet, wants his own piece of the pie now I guess, maybe for a more concentrated effort in making effective change. Reeve seems willing to give it to him.”</p><p>Tifa was quiet within her thoughts for a time. Soon, a small smile tugged at her lips. “A second chance, then.”</p><p>Reno frowned. “For who?” </p><p>“For you, that’s who. All of you. I think Reeve wants to give Rufus the opportunity to prove himself and make up for his hand in the mess of everything. Just like he’s giving to Rude, in a much different way.” She stopped and peered into his face, as if searching for an adverse reaction to her point. When he appeared indifferent, she asked, “What do you think about him leaving? If you don’t mind talking about it, that is.” </p><p>Part of him very much minded talking about it. It really pissed him off, actually; Rude cutting the Shinra cord to move off to some broad, overarching scope of the same shit. His colleagues used to mean everything to Rude, but now? Years of working alongside him, drinking with him, chasing tail with him, all forgotten and cast aside for a woman and supposed redemption. Bastard.</p><p>The glass in hand squealed at his relentless buffing. He finally set it into the rack. “If it's a second chance he's after, Can’t really blame him for that. I just don't see the point in leaving Shinra for it.”</p><p>“Why not?”</p><p>“Leaving Shinra doesn’t change anything. What happened still happened. We ain’t the same as we used to be but shedding the name doesn’t shed the layer of shit we’re covered in.”  </p><p>Perhaps forgiveness was possible, but he nor his victims would ever forget what they’d done. Total salvation was a lie—he’d spend the rest of his life trying to drink his past assignments away.</p><p>“Maybe he just wants to start over with a clean slate,” Tifa offered, her gaze warming his skin against the icy chill rippling along his flesh. The darkness was crawling in again.</p><p>“There is no clean slate. This doesn’t wash off.”</p><p>“But you said you aren’t the same as you used to be. That counts for something. Maybe the point is not making the same mistake twice, regardless of how you mean to do it. Staying with Shinra or leaving, as long as you come to the same result.” He centered his attention at the sink, and the delicate push of her fingertips against his cheek brought it to her instead. “Starting now, do better and move forward.”</p><p>A comfortable stillness settled over the room as he watched Tifa return to the sink, submerging her hands beneath the suds. He resumed his task as well, realizing she’d left him speechless.</p><p>They finished with the dishes in silence, the hum of the cooler and the breeze of the wind outdoors lending to the ambient noise around them. </p><p>“I was thinking,” Tifa began, water slowly receding through the gaping drain at the bottom of the sink, “maybe we could do something like dancing for the next time we go out.”</p><p>Amusement colored his features. “Dancing huh?”</p><p>“You can dance, can’t you?” She grinned as she passed him, retreating into the wider room. </p><p>He didn’t miss the opportunity to brush his hand at her passing waist, fingers tingling from the charge sparked from contact. “You tell me; you’ve seen these hips in action.” </p><p>A slight blush bloomed on her cheeks as she hefted a chair up and flipped it over. “Let me rephrase. Do you like to dance?” </p><p>She positioned the chair on the tabletop seat down and moved to the next. He watched her lift and flip them effortlessly, as if they weighed no more than a paperweight.</p><p>Reno followed her, replicating the movements beside her with another chair. “Is this an excuse to twirl and flip me around on the dance floor like a rag-mog?”</p><p>A thought seemed to cross her eyes as she smiled, and he suspected he might have been on the money. “We can take turns, how’s that?”</p><p>He waited until she was through flipping her third chair before he put his hands on her, drawing her in by her hips. “Mm, only if I get to pick the dance.”</p><p>Tifa’s arms snaked around his neck, fingers coiling through his hair while his own kneaded firmly into her waist. The response to him was instinctive, beyond her logical control. While his mouth found her neck, nipping selfishly at the flesh below her ear, that logic only further deteriorated. </p><p>“The kids, remember?” she breathed, still trying to wrap her proverbial hands around her fleeting rationale.</p><p>“The kids, the kids,” he mocked playfully, dragging her closer against the length of him, the heat of him radiating like a furnace, and she was caught in the swelter. “They need to learn about the birds and the bees someday.”</p><p>A retort came to her tongue, but stalled there in the next second. His mouth took hers in a kiss, gentle yet urgent. Suddenly, she didn’t care about anything or anyone. Just this.  </p><p>Just him.</p><p>The jingle of keys and a string of expletives at the door destroyed the magic between them.</p><p>Tifa abruptly pulled out of his embrace, both looking toward the door. The timbre of the voice on the other side was utterly recognizable.</p><p>They were out of time.</p><p>“He’s early…” she whispered, her expression dark with fear. </p><p>She heard Reno at her side then, a leveled measure of calm, one she wished she could match. “Well… double homicide it is.”</p><p>The door swung open, and Barret Wallace crossed the threshold. His countenance twisted into a harrowing look of repressed rage, brown eyes glossed over from the poison of it. Moisture from the sporadic rainfall dusted his skin and clothes, droplets captured by his brows and lashes. The sound of howling winds whipping around the venue added to the precarious aura which descended upon it.</p><p>“Barret, I thought you were coming tomorrow,” Tifa said, keeping her voice steady.</p><p>He wiped the back of his fleshed hand against his eyes and forehead, removing the water clinging to his face. “Sorry Tifa, I just couldn’t sleep. Got some fucked up news about Shinra…” He trailed off, taking notice of Reno. Nostrils flared as he fully absorbed what lay before him; </p><p>The physical representation of his unbridled hatred.</p><p>“What the fuck is he doin’ here?” He asked without missing a beat. “Shinra got a vice grip on this place too? Private property is private,” he pointed a finger at Reno, “you tell your sniveling little boss that, you hear me?”</p><p>Tifa remained close to Reno’s side, who merely stood there with a smirk, thoroughly unshaken by Barret’s menacing finger. A side glance revealed he buried his hands into his pockets, awaiting the inevitable. </p><p>“He’s not here for any kind of business,” she corrected.</p><p>Barret stared at her with a heated glower. To her credit, she didn’t shrink under the weight of his gaze. His eyes flickered, trying to connect the dots. “You gonna tell me why he’s here then? It’s well past closin’ time.” </p><p>There was nowhere to run; her back was against the wall, again. The timing was far from ideal, but sometimes life didn’t provide a bevy of options. </p><p>Sometimes it forces your hand.</p><p>“He’s... we are…” Tifa stammered. She couldn’t find the words, her vocabulary disappearing. She was melting under his stare.</p><p>Reno came to her rescue, a slight shift in his weight as he addressed Barret evenly. “We’re dating.”</p><p>The glare intensified, lifting from Tifa to Reno. “Liar. She would never touch a piece of Shinra shit like you.”</p><p>Reno’s signature grin spread wide across his face. “You’d be surprised as to what a charming Shinra shit I can be.”</p><p>Barret ignored him, looking to Tifa for confirmation instead.</p><p>“He’s not lying,” she stated quietly.</p><p>“You’re out of your Goddamn mind,” Barret hissed. “Did you forget? Did you forget what <em> they </em> did? What <em> he </em>did?”</p><p>“I’ve never forgotten,” she countered, a sadness in her tone she couldn’t disguise.  “But I forgave, and maybe it's time—”</p><p>“There will never be a time to forgive, Tifa! What the fuck are you on?!” Barret fumed, the grip on his temper wavering.</p><p>Reno knew he should stay quiet, should let the events play out with Tifa at the helm, but he couldn’t. There was something about the way Wallace spoke to her that cocked him into action like a loaded pistol. “Maybe you need to take her advice and let go of the past, man. This ain’t good for your blood pressure.”</p><p>Two pairs of eyes fell on him, each for very different reasons.</p><p>Barret’s voice rose in volume along with the tug of his lip, forming a snarl. “You dropped the Mother fuckin’ plate on my people!”</p><p>“And your self-righteous bullshit didn’t do you or your people any favors either, yo. You declared war when you blew up reactors.”</p><p>“Guys, pleas—”</p><p>No one heard Tifa, the bellow of Barret overshadowing all. “We were savin’ the Planet while you and your kind were killin’ folk and destroyin’ it!”</p><p>“You seem to forget Avalanche was loaded with terrorists, like Dr. Fuhito, who were fine wiping out humanity for the sake of the Planet. You know, that thing called genocide,” he stated smugly, grinning fiercely. “If we let them have their way, you wouldn’t be standing here.”  </p><p>The distance was slowly closing between the men, and Reno didn’t know who took micro steps forward first, but eventually they would lock horns. He hated to admit it to himself, but he basked in the adrenaline rush their quarrel delivered. </p><p>Barret’s gaze turned homicidal. “We weren’t the same. We didn’t actively kill innocents.”</p><p>“You sure about that? You left your fair share of bodies behind,” Reno countered, “but I guess it’s easy to forget the faces of your victims if they’re under the Shinra umbrella.”</p><p>“You mother fuckin’ hypocrite!” Barret spat, his fury boiling behind his eyes.</p><p>Through his peripheral, Reno could see Tifa open her mouth, only to be drowned out by the throb of his pulse in his ears. </p><p>“At least I own my shit and don’t pretend my hands are clean. But if you haven’t noticed, Wallace, the war is over.”</p><p>Large hands balled into tight fists, quaking violently against the pressure. “You say another word and I’m knocking your head clean off!”</p><p>Reno’s smirk was feral, fingers twitching at his sides in anticipation. “I dare you to try it. Be just like old times.”</p><p>Before either could make a move they would regret, Tifa was between them, her face rueful and agitated. “Stop it, there’s no need for this!”</p><p>Neither party progressed, but both held their ground, rigid and waiting for one wrong move from the other.</p><p>Tifa glanced at Reno with a quick smile before turning to Barret. His fiery stare burned straight through her to his opposition while Reno stood quietly behind her, a solid comfort at her back with what she had to face. </p><p>“He’s not wrong, Barret. The war is over. I always wondered if we turned ourselves in—”</p><p>Barret’s fist pounded heavily into the table at his side, violently vibrating beneath his strength. “Don’t you dare fall into that trap! We ain’t responsible for shit! He murdered our family!”</p><p>An assault of memories flooded her then, recalling the battles, the carnage, the loss. So much of it transpired for reasons she spent years attempting to reconcile with, wondering if perhaps it could have all been handled differently. She couldn’t allow herself to sink back into the mindset of revenge and anger. Things were different. Shinra was different.</p><p>Reno was different.</p><p>“He was just an extension of Shinra,” Tifa argued. “They were tools. And we killed people too.”</p><p>“This ain’t you, Tifa,” Barret seethed, shaking his head.</p><p>“Maybe I’ve moved on. How long are we going to let ourselves suffer?”</p><p>A brief lull formulated, and Tifa thought perhaps she may have reached him. </p><p>“It’s Cloud, ain’t it?” There was concern in his tone despite the ire. “His leavin’ got you so screwed up you got yourself hypnotized by this serpent.”</p><p>A flash of anger surged, barely containing its potency through clenched fists. “It has nothing to do with Cloud.”</p><p>“Nothing else explains your crazy!”</p><p>“This is what I want! Can’t I be happy for once?!” She felt her temper slip, biting back the venom that seared her tongue.</p><p>“Not if it means betraying your family, betraying their memory!” Barret roared.</p><p>She averted her eyes from him, hurt and angry. “I’m not betraying anyone.”</p><p>“You’re betraying yourself. You’re no better than Reeve… handing Edge over to Rufus on a silver fuckin’ platter.”</p><p>“They’ve changed. Everything has changed.”</p><p>Barret leaned forward, sneering. “The fuck they’ve changed. They’re repeatin’ history!”</p><p>Tifa shook her head, standing rigid within her resolve. “Maybe they want a chance to prove themselves, that they have changed.”</p><p>“Evil stays evil, why can’t you see this?!” Barret pulled back, looking at her incredulously.</p><p>“You’re wrong,” she stated firmly.</p><p>They stood there together only to be worlds apart. He continued to live in one filled with animosity, unable to see there was life beyond it, one far more rewarding and peaceful once he released his hatred. She feared perhaps this was a lost cause, that his conviction was unshakable, even in the face of those he loved.</p><p>“You said you’d do anything for me,” she told him, returning her eyes to him. His visage was irate, tension trapped within the creases around his frowning irises. “I’m asking you to understand.”</p><p>“There ain’t no understanding this,” he growled. His teeth glistened in the low light, the inferno of his contempt reflecting in a pair of eyes that drifted to focus behind her. “Ever.”</p><p>Reno locked sights with Barret and stood his ground, but he didn’t engage. The roar of his adrenaline tempered down, the severity of the situation becoming abundantly clear. </p><p>“I’m taking Marlene out of here,” Barret suddenly declared.</p><p>“You can’t do that!” Tifa shrieked at him.</p><p>Reno stepped up beside her, brows furrowed as he looked at Barret cautiously. “Come on man, don’t be unreasonable.”</p><p>A metallic fist leveled at his face. “Say one more mother fuckin’ word and I will blow. You. Away.” </p><p>The threat hung heavy in the air, and Reno decided not to test its integrity.</p><p>“Don’t do this, Barret,” Tifa pleaded, her face solemn, “don’t break up the family.”</p><p>Lowering his arm, he appeared unmoved by her appeal. “I’m doing what’s best for the family, what you’ve lost sight of! Marlene’s my daughter, and she will not be raised by a Shinra sympathizer!” </p><p>“She has stability here,” she argued. “You can’t separate them!”</p><p>“That stability don’t mean shit if she’s associating with murderers! Denzel ain’t got no business being around this asshole either, not after what he did to him!”</p><p>Irritation swept across Reno’s face just then, and he lost the battle against his mouth. “I didn’t touch one hair on that kid, Wallace, so you can fuck right off with your bogus accusations.”</p><p>Barret glared savagely at him. “You ruined his mother fuckin’ life when you dropped—”</p><p>“Stop, please Barret!” Tifa shouted, her palms flying to her temples.</p><p>Silence stretched across the room, thick and palpable. All eyes fell on Tifa, who shrank beneath their stares like a frightened child.</p><p>Barret seemed to gain a few fragments of control as he looked down on her, his voice calmer than Reno had ever known it to be. “He doesn’t know, does he?”</p><p>Tifa didn’t speak, the pallor of her skin white as snow.</p><p>Reno looked between them before he settled on Tifa. “What the hell is he talking about? What don’t I know?” </p><p>Barret’s voice was even. “Ever wonder why Denzel’s an orphan? Among those faceless victims you killed—”</p><p>“Barret, don’t...” she choked, her voice cracking, tapering off into silence.</p><p>Just like that, he understood.</p><p>Among those faceless victims lay a child’s family beneath the rubble. With every loss to the Lifestream, one could be sure to trace a web string to someone’s undeserved suffering. That string led straight to Denzel. </p><p>Because of him.</p><p>And Tifa kept it from him.</p><p>The air became acrid, desolate. He had no quip to offer, his tank filled with wicked banter empty. There was nothing to say on the cusp of such a mind-numbing revelation. </p><p>“You’re right, Tifa. I shouldn’t separate ‘em. I’ll come back for ‘em both tomorrow,” Barret stated, pausing as if he expected a counterargument. </p><p>None was forthcoming.</p><p>He motioned for the door before he turned, imparting a final word to a stone still Tifa. “Get your house in order.”</p><p>The door slammed in his wake, the space between the pair left behind fracturing with his exit.</p><p>A barrage of emotions accosted Reno, ranging from exasperation to frustration. It all melded into a cauldron, boiling into something that tasted of bitterness and regret. He tasted nothing else.</p><p>He shouldn’t have felt so strongly about it; he knew quite well he would run into people who had suffered by his hand, directly or indirectly. Edge was an entire city filled with such people. Perhaps it was the light in the kids’ eyes every time he saw him, the effortless bond that materialized within a short span of time. Perhaps it was the knowledge that Tifa was active in her silence in keeping the truth from him. </p><p>That layer of filth only felt thicker now, and he was utterly disgusted with himself. </p><p>Crossing the floor, he reached the bar, taking a cigarette and lighter in his trembling hands. Raising the items to his face, he glared at them, channeling his anger. The smoke snapped between his fingers and he hurled the lighter clear across the room. It crashed distantly against a far wall before clattering to the floorboards below.</p><p>Tifa didn’t move.</p><p>“When were you gonna tell me about Denzel?” he asked, his voice tightly strained.</p><p>Her arms fell to her sides, hanging stiffly. Still, she offered no reply.</p><p>Reno understood her signs of panic; the absolute internal hysteria that was likely raging within. At the moment, however, he didn’t care.</p><p>The silence only served to further enrage him.</p><p>Fingers drummed heavily against the bar-top as he swallowed back some of his more malicious barbs reserved for people he didn’t give two shits about. “Were you ever going to tell me?”</p><p>She didn’t answer.</p><p>The flat of his palm slammed against the surface. The sharp crack of skin resounded against the walls. “Answer me!”</p><p>Tifa turned to him, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears. “I’m sorry,” her voice was frail, breaking. “I wanted to tell you but I couldn’t. I didn’t want you to hurt anymore, either of you…”</p><p>He tried to latch onto his fury, but he felt it slip like sand through the space between his fingers as he watched her face slowly crumble with remorse.</p><p>“So the kid doesn’t know.”</p><p>She merely shook her head.</p><p>As he stood there, watching her fold into her guilt, he understood her and her motives more deeply than he ever had before. </p><p>Tifa was trying to protect them all.  </p><p>Whether it was hiding the truth from her family or from him, it was always under genuine pretenses. Unfortunately, she just failed to realize that through her silence, through that protection often came a larger, greater wound that was not so easily mended.</p><p>“He’s going to take the kids,” she said with a tremor to her voice, haunted by the proclamation. “He has no right...”</p><p>A blowhard Barret may be in most cases, but Reno wasn’t certain the man was bluffing. His vicious loathing of Shinra motivated him toward extreme measures, and even if he didn’t follow through with the threat, Reno would be the black cloud hanging over everything. The thought of another broken family because of him had his gut wrenching. While it was an unconventional one, it was a family nonetheless—the only one they had. A mere tool he may have been once before, following the abhorrent orders of his employer, the responsibility of loss still lay within his hands. He wouldn’t be responsible for destroying another.</p><p>He had no place there, not with everything he’d done.</p><p>Reno slipped his blazer over his shoulders and shot his arms through the sleeves. Tossing his pack into his pocket, he turned to her. “This just isn’t going to work.”</p><p>Tifa blinked, her eyes wide as if he’d slapped her. </p><p>He felt his resolve bend and buckle at the sight of her, but dammit, it was for her own fucking good.</p><p>“You don’t mean that…”</p><p>He hated this. He hated everything about this. Everything in him thrashed and reeled against it.</p><p>“Yeah, I do,” he stated bluntly, forcing his voice into apathy. “This was a mistake, yo. Shit got too complicated, and I’m not really a complicated kind of guy. It was fun while it lasted, though.”</p><p>Reno didn’t wait for the anger, the pain to fester. He didn’t wait to hear her reply, didn’t wait for apologies, didn’t wait for her to demand an explanation. </p><p>He didn’t wait for his willpower to collapse.</p><p>Charging across the room to the door, he steeled his expression to remain neutral, the pounding of his heart boisterous. His hand was on the knob, turning the cold steel in his grip when her hand crashed against the door. He felt the heat of her body excruciatingly close to him, suffocating in the space they shared. It withered away at his courage, but he stood firm and stayed forward.</p><p>“You’re lying,” Tifa whispered, hints of anger lacing her tone.  </p><p>“It’s over, all right?” He attempted to invoke rage, indignation, but the emotions wouldn’t surface and he just sounded tired. “Let it die a peaceful death.” </p><p>He pulled on the door, but her hand didn’t move, slamming it shut.</p><p>“You can’t do this.” She’d lost the anger now, the delicate timbre of her voice shaky and desperate.</p><p>Knuckles turned white as he tightened his grip on the knob, pressing his forehead into the door. He didn’t want to look at her. “Goddammit, don’t make this any harder than it already is.”</p><p>A quick, indifferent exit seemed to be the answer, but she either saw straight through the facade, or he simply couldn’t summon it under her scrutiny. Perhaps she knew him just as well as he knew her.</p><p>Reno pulled a second time. It gave halfway before it fell closed again. </p><p>“Come on, Tifa…” he sighed, finding it more and more difficult to sustain the callous bravado. </p><p>Her arm weakened, bending at the elbow, her voice tired and filled with anguish. “I’m so sorry.” </p><p>Finally, he turned to face her as tears streamed freely down her cheeks. She looked back at him, damaged and brittle. There was no more hiding her pain, no more covering it up or locking it away. It was open, raw, and bleeding right in front of him.</p><p>It was then he realized they were no longer alone. </p><p>Denzel and Marlene stood by the opening at the bar. Their eyes were wide, their understanding of the situation limited, but the sadness in their expressions was unmistakable.</p><p>It was time to end everyone's suffering.</p><p>Reno placed his hands on Tifa’s shoulders, her bare skin against his palms. The ache in his chest throbbed, a pulsating agony beneath his ribcage. He couldn’t remember a pain quite like this.  </p><p>He should have never touched her. He should have never...</p><p>It had all been a terrible mistake.</p><p>“I won’t be responsible for you losing any more of your family,” he said. “You’re going to keep them. You’ll keep your house in order.”</p><p>“Don’t do this to me,” she murmured. She made no move to touch him—she made no move at all.</p><p>Reno smiled sadly. He wanted nothing more than to stay, to face adversity by her side and take on the Planet with her. </p><p>That selfishness could not exist. Not with her.</p><p>“I’m doing this <em> for </em>you.” Reno paused, glancing toward the children, toward Denzel. “I’m doing this for them.”</p><p>He watched her deflate and hollow out. He watched the light in her eyes dim. He watched the fight in her die.</p><p>Abruptly, he closed the distance and kissed her. </p><p>Tifa was a taste to savor, a lover to remember.</p><p>Nothing else mattered in that moment, only the finality of their union, the bittersweet end to a liaison that should have never been. </p><p>Breaking away, he turned and rushed out into the rain. </p><p>The door closed behind him.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I'm sorry.  I'm very, very sorry.</p><p>That's really all I have to say here.</p><p>Sorry.</p><p>Also, the story isn't over, so please don't be too angry with me &gt;.&lt;</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Homecoming</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Homecoming</em>
</p><p>The city of Edge closed in around him, and Cloud felt an odd sense of uneasiness upon returning home.</p><p>Construction seemed never ending there; new monochrome buildings stood all around in various stages of completion. Spells of light from the afternoon sun peeked through open slivers of gray clouds overhead, reflecting dully against industrial steel. The population even seemed thicker, the hustle and bustle of pedestrians padding through the streets and disappearing into stores or residences. The domesticity of city life played out before him as he glided through atop the rumble of Fenrir.</p><p>Like a spark to dried underbrush, the blaze of gossip soared through Gaia with the rumblings of a new yet familiar rise to power over Edge; the once free city now placed in the hands of the co-conspirator of the Planets near demise with WRO’s full support. The murmurs of Shinra’s sudden power grab reached him through his travels back home, prompted by a heated voicemail from Barret about the issue. The message itself was difficult to discern between the bellowing profanities and the rage-filled metaphors, but the word ‘Shinra’ peppered all throughout the lengthy information dump. It wouldn’t have surprised him to know the abrupt end of the call was due to an aneurysm.</p><p>Cloud didn’t allot any genuine concern to Shinra. His clipped conversation with Rufus during the Geostigma era left him with the feeling that his efforts at apologizing to Gaia and its residents would expand beyond his wallet in due time. A cunning nature was heavily ingrained into the blueprint of his personality, but near-death had a way of altering one's motives. If Cloud’s instincts were correct, those motives were now closely aligned with righting the wrongs of the past.</p><p>Edge was a good start.</p><p>The call and the rumors were well-timed. His absence had been a much longer extension than he’d originally expected. He hadn’t chosen to run for the sake of running; he hadn’t chalked himself up to a lost cause and resolved to live out his days in a dilapidated church, a structural representation of guilt he didn’t deserve. This time, he had left for a different reason.</p><p>There was a chill in the air, carried along by billowing winds that brushed against his face. Winter was fast approaching, the scent of the day’s long precipitation lingering on as he coasted down paved roads, drawing closer to his distance. A sudden knot clenched his stomach as cerulean eyes narrowed behind his goggles.</p><p>They’d beaten Geostigma, beaten the Remnants, and he’d beaten his guilt. Unfortunately, it just wasn’t enough for him to settle down into normalcy. The spoiled, festering bits in his head took space where they didn’t belong and couldn’t shake them free. He tried to barrel through the motions and hoped eventually it would pass, but the pit of despondency only widened and deepened with time.</p><p>
  <em>How can you look after your family if you can’t even take care of yourself?</em>
</p><p>Seventh Heaven was quiet when he finally arrived, bold text reading ‘Closed’ pressed against the clear glass window. </p><p>Something stirred within him when he considered entrance through the garage. Since he’d been away so long, entering uninvited felt intrusive. He suddenly wondered if he should be there at all, if returning was a mistake. He wondered if they would welcome him back into the fold. </p><p>His thoughts drifted to the night of his departure then. After making up his bed for the last time for a while, he scribbled out a lengthy letter behind his exodus. Coherency was lacking on paper, and frustration led him to shred his efforts. The pieces of his explanation rained into the trash bin by his desk as he pried something far more simplistic from his troubled mind. It was a partial lie but it was all he could summon without causing too much worry. Ultimately, he knew it would be little to assuage anyone's fears. It was a regret he still carried. </p><p>Killing the engine, Cloud positioned the bike off to the shadows of the entrance and flipped off his goggles, tossing them into the pouch at Fenrirs’ side. While he couldn’t go back and change anything about that night, perhaps he could make them understand now.</p><p>Instinctively, he reached for his keys. The motion felt foreign, out of place. He reasoned himself out of putting up Fenrir in the garage; he couldn’t possibly enter Seventh Heaven unannounced. However, he still technically lived there, didn’t he? His head was suddenly a cluster of confusion, agitation at his indecision welling up and spilling over.</p><p>He lifted his fist to knock, rapping three times before dropping his arm to his side and waited.</p><p>Only seconds passed before the door swung wide, and his eyes settled on the familiar face of Denzel.</p><p>Excitement and astonishment pervaded over his features as he stood in the doorway. “Cloud...it <em>is </em>you.” He turned his head to shout over his shoulder, “I told you he was back!”</p><p>The pitter-patter of footsteps drew near before Marlene appeared beside Denzel. A smile crossed her lips before it vanished completely, a look of admonishment taking its place. “Where have you been, Cloud?”</p><p>The grin that caught his mouth surprised even him as he looked down at the children, realizing suddenly how much he’d missed them. “Can I come in?”</p><p>The two immediately parted, allowing him to pass over the threshold and into the room as the door fell shut behind him.</p><p>Everything was as he remembered—various picture frames littering the walls, bottles and cookery behind the polished bar, a green chalkboard filled with yesterday's specials. The floor was freshly mopped, the pungent aroma of a pine scented cleaner wafting through his nose. There was something different about it, however. A home once warm and welcoming felt oddly cold and melancholy.</p><p>Something was wrong.</p><p>Marlene and Denzel approached him cautiously, as if he were a delicate apparition soon to dissipate into the stratosphere. He looked at them, the small difference in their persons’ striking him. Had they grown? They looked at least an inch or two taller. </p><p>“Why didn’t you use your key?” Denzel asked.</p><p>Cloud stretched his arm behind his head, fingers digging into the back of his neck. He still hadn’t managed to break himself of his nervous itch. <em>Because I was afraid the locks had changed. </em></p><p>“It doesn’t matter, he’s home now.” Marlene came to his rescue, only to direct a much more pointed and loaded question at him. “So... why were you gone for so long?”</p><p>“Work was busy,” he lied. The truth seemed far more complicated to convey to them. Their faces, however, told him they didn’t quite believe him. How do you tell kids their age you had to fix yourself? “Where’s Tifa?”</p><p>They both hesitated before their eyes glanced collectively behind the bar.</p><p>“She’s in there a lot, in the garage," Denzel stated solemnly. "Ever since Reno left."</p><p>“Reno? The Turk?” Cloud questioned with a frown.</p><p>Denzel nodded, “That’s the one.”</p><p>Cloud recalled Reno and Rude were frequent visitors within the late hours of Seventh Heaven. While he initially didn’t take much of a liking to their presence and would have preferred they found another spot to wet their whistle, Tifa insisted they be left to their own devices, their gil as good as anyone’s. They never caused a ruckus, at least while he was there, and had no reason to use force to escort them out.</p><p>That knowledge offered no answers to whatever implication was being made by the kids, but the distress that crossed their eyes warned him there was a certain significance to the absence.</p><p>And what was she doing in the garage?</p><p>The sound of footfalls behind the bar cut off any further conversation about it.</p><p>Tifa came into view as she approached the counter. She looked tired and worn out. “Kids, did someone come to the door?” A flash of various emotions flooded over her face when she spotted him. </p><p>Cloud saw her stand there, posture rigid and fighting against some invisible entity based on the notable quiver of her bare biceps and the twitch of her brow. The warmth of her eyes was several degrees below its normal temperature, and he felt the chill that greeted him in frosty waves—it made his mouth dry and his body freeze over.</p><p>Maybe he should have called, first.</p><p>With quick expertise, she drew on a smile, tight and forced. It failed to reach her eyes. “Welcome back, Cloud.”</p><p>The reception was as frigid as he feared it would be.</p><p>The kids looked uncomfortable, glancing between the two adults in the room, waiting for the proverbial pin to drop.</p><p>Cloud was just as nervous as they were. “Thanks.”  </p><p>The air between them felt cold and oppressive as he watched her; the pallor of her skin slick and ruddy, a layer of fatigue along with something he couldn’t quite place behind the mask of her expression. She pinned him in place beneath her stare, and he steeled himself against whatever well deserved reprimand may come.</p><p>One never did.</p><p>Her gaze fell away with a blink, the smile dissolving into indifference. Quickly, she retreated through the kitchen, disappearing altogether.</p><p>Guilt bloomed in his chest, almost enough to send him out again. However, he knew he deserved the icy greeting to his unannounced return. He didn’t begrudge her for it, but he wished it had played out differently.</p><p>“You should go talk to her,” Marlene said once Tifa was out of earshot, the volume of her voice dropping considerably. “You <em>have</em> been gone a long time, but I know she’s glad you’re back. She just didn’t show it.”</p><p>He wasn’t sure that was true, but the hopefulness of her expression inspired a shred of confidence.</p><p>“She probably misses Reno,” Denzel offered. “I wish he’d come back. He was cool.”</p><p>“I still have to draw his portrait,” Marlene added sadly.</p><p>Confusion clouded his face as he looked from Denzel to Marlene, noting the gaping hole in the middle of this mysterious puzzle. How much time had Reno spent in Seventh Heaven to establish any kind of connection with them? Why was Tifa suddenly comfortable with a Turk within close proximity of the kids? How close <em>were</em> they?</p><p>“Were Reno and Tifa...really good <em>friends</em>?” he asked carefully.</p><p>Their own confusion informed him they didn’t quite get the insinuation. </p><p>He knelt down to their level, Marlene’s level—Denzel easily surpassing him in height at a crouch. “Can you tell me what happened when Reno left?”</p><p>Denzel looked to Marlene, who seemed to have no trouble providing the information. “It was really loud downstairs, like a fight, when I went to the bathroom. I woke Denzel up, but we’re supposed to stay put if fights happen so we waited. When we thought it stopped, we went downstairs and saw Reno leaving but Tifa was asking him not to go. He said something to Tifa, then he kissed her goodbye—”</p><p>“Kissed her?” Cloud questioned, incredulous.</p><p>She nodded, and Denzel picked up the rest. “She was really upset when he was gone and wouldn’t talk to us at first. She just went to her room. The next day she acted like everything was fine, until she started cleaning up the bar and found a lighter.” His face dropped as he continued, “She tried not to do it in front of us, but she couldn’t help it and cried over it. And then Barret came, and things got really weird.”</p><p>The surprise on his face wasn’t exactly subtle, but neither one seemed to notice. “When did all of this happen?”</p><p>“A few days ago,” Marlene replied. “Daddy was mad and said a lot of bad words about Shinra. Tifa told him Reno wasn’t coming back just like he wanted, and he said,” her chest puffed out as the timbre of her voice dropped as low as it would register, “‘Good! If that Goddamn Turk ever shows his Goddamn face around here again I’m pumping him full of bullets’. That was when Tifa stopped talking to him.”</p><p>The voicemail regarding Shinra had been around the same time, and Junon was within reasonable proximity to Edge to make a trip to visit the family. He would have arrived furious—a powder keg on the brink of explosion.</p><p>It all started to make sense.</p><p>“I’ll go talk to her.”</p><p>There was relief in their eyes and he could only hope to meet their expectations.</p><p>“Don’t make her more upset like Barret did when you go talk to her,” Denzel warned emphatically. “We just don’t want her to be upset anymore.”</p><p>“I’ll do my best.” Cloud offered them a small smile as he rose to leave them, following Tifa’s path into the garage.</p><p>The thought of her with Reno looped through his mind like a film on repeat. Whatever had transpired seemed to have ended now, but the lasting effects of the separation lived on. The union itself was something he thought he’d find Cait Sith foretelling—a fortune with no basis in reality. Although, given the life they all led until this point, it perhaps shouldn’t have surprised him. He thought he should have felt something like jealousy or anger, but he was surprised to find he felt neither.</p><p>The violent collision of leather to leather became louder and louder as he moved closer to the garage opening. Approaching the open doorway, he stood there for several moments, watching as she pummeled a punching bag that hung in the space where Fenrir once occupied. Eyeing its sway, he realized she stopped waiting for him to come back.</p><p>Pinpricks of apprehension needled their way beneath his skin. Their brief exchange left him anxious, but avoidance had always been the default setting. The threads within their family were frayed, and it may very well be up to him to repair them. </p><p>“Hey Tifa?”</p><p>Perspiration dripped in thin streams from her hairline down her cheeks, her hitched breath echoing with each strike as she continued to batter the bag.</p><p>She didn’t answer.</p><p>“Can we talk?” he pressed, raising his voice a little louder.</p><p>“I’m busy,” Tifa grunted, punches connecting noticeably harder the longer he stood there.</p><p>“Right. Sorry.” <em>This isn’t working. </em>“When you’re ready, then.”</p><p>She gave a right hook before heaving a sigh, sights still trained on her target. “I’ll be right in.”</p><p>“Okay.” He turned just as she resumed her stance and sent a flurry of jabs against her inanimate opponent. </p><p>If she didn’t want to talk, he hoped she’d at least listen—he had a lot to say.</p><p>The kids were waiting patiently for his return, having moved behind the bar to stand within the arch to the kitchen. They looked at him expectantly.</p><p>“Could you two do a favor for me and go upstairs for a bit so we can talk privately?”</p><p>A shadow of suspicion fell over their features.</p><p>“Do you promise not to leave without saying goodbye this time?” Denzel asked with noted skepticism.</p><p>The question stung.</p><p>“I’m not going to leave.” </p><p>Marlene and Denzel hesitated. Perhaps they assumed a fight would ensue and lead to his departure all over again. Perhaps they just didn’t trust him anymore.</p><p>He deserved that.</p><p>“I promise.”</p><p>With a bit of slow reluctance, they dragged their feet toward the steps as Cloud turned back into the kitchen.</p><p>He sat at the round dining table, waiting for Tifa to end her assault from beyond the doorway. With hands clasped together in front of him, he deliberated over what to say, how to explain to her what he’s been doing, why he left. He thought over what the children told him about Reno’s recent exit, Tifa’s shift in behavior from it, and the friction between her and Barret. </p><p>He wasn’t sure if he should address the latter, fearing it would lead to unnecessary confrontation. His first instinct had been to keep quiet and avoid it all; it really wasn’t any of his business. Yet after so much time away, he knew he had to push himself and face these emotional entanglements head on. He had to force himself into conversations and find resolutions through open dialogue.</p><p>Cloud had to somehow help fix what was set in motion to be broken.</p><p>The onslaught ended, and the lull of silence buzzed around his ears. He dragged his attention toward the doorway where Tifa stepped through, hands still covered by her fingerless gloves. She took the seat across from him, arms folding at her chest.</p><p>Tension tightly coiled around them. </p><p>“So…” he started carefully. “I’ve been gone awhile.”</p><p>“I noticed.”</p><p>Silence dropped like a sack of bricks. <em>Great start</em>.</p><p>“I heard about Shinra.”</p><p>“Is that why you’re back? To fight the power?” Tifa asked, her voice pulled tight like a rubber-band, ready to snap.</p><p>“No...not really,” he sighed, frustrated. “Not to fight, just to check on things. On you guys. I got a voicemail from Barret about it.”</p><p>Her face immediately darkened. “What else did he say?”</p><p>Cloud realized then Barret hadn’t said a word about anything else—anything about <em>that Goddamn Turk. </em>“That’s it.”</p><p>“At least you check your voicemails.”</p><p>Shame washed over his face. “I’m sorry, Tifa.”</p><p>“I know.”</p><p>The barrier between them was dense, forged thick over time and distance. He didn’t know how to break it down.</p><p>“You said business calls in your note,” Tifa said, her focus glued to some crevice on the wooden surface. “Why did you <em>really </em>leave this time?”</p><p>He braced himself. “To fix myself.”</p><p>The confession grabbed her attention, her neutral expression shifting into confusion and concern. She finally managed to look at him without hidden notes of resentment. “I don’t understand.”</p><p>Cloud took a deep breath, hoping the words in his head made sense as they tumbled out of his mouth. “I didn’t realize how messed up my head still was, even after the threats were gone, after I got over the guilt of...living. After Geostigma was healed, I thought I could settle in and just be a normal guy with my family. But I still felt empty and broken. I had doubts that I would be good enough like I was and I just didn’t want to burden you with it until I figured it out.”</p><p>Several beats passed before he had the courage to look at her. When he did, he noted the hint of sadness in her eyes and the downward curve of her mouth. Her hands had fallen onto the table, fingertips pressing into the fabric of the place-mat.</p><p>“You could have tried to tell me instead of just leaving."</p><p>“I did try. I just...couldn’t.” His hand went for his neck again, and he halted the motion mid-reach, lowering his arm back to the table. “I felt like I needed to do it on my own. These last few years have been a blur. There are moments, fond moments I can clearly remember, but mostly I felt stuck and uncomfortable in my skin, like something wasn’t right. I knew I had to figure this out, before I could settle myself into any sort of normal life. But once I started to pull myself together and understand who I was and what I wanted, I wasn’t sure I <em>wanted </em>a normal life. I started to understand that I...that I wanted to…” He trailed off, his mind in knots.</p><p>Tifa picked at the place-mat, at the worn threading from the cloth. He could hear the thinly veiled bitterness lacing each word. “Come and go, in and out of our lives.”</p><p>That one hurt, partly because it was somewhat true. “Tifa…”</p><p>Either she didn’t hear him or pretended not to. “I think I’ve always known that, how you aren’t meant to be in one place. That’s why Strife Delivery Service is suited well for you. You have the opportunity to be free and go about as you please. You realized that you’re meant to wander, and that’s where you feel most at home—on the road. ”</p><p>“That’s part of it,” Cloud conceded. “But my family is still my family, and that hasn’t changed.” </p><p>“I’m sure it hasn’t.” Her brows furrowed, the gleam in her eye carrying a skeptical glint.  </p><p>They meant everything to him, but his heart was restless. He desired the open road, the freedom of lush green landscapes and empty wastelands—the thrill of the unknown. Perhaps the Mako was responsible, the reason he yearned to chase after the adrenaline and the very reason why he couldn’t settle down. </p><p>It was the hardest thing to accept about himself.</p><p>Cloud shifted uncomfortably as he gazed at her. The current subject was not going quite as planned and he searched his head for a topic to change it to.</p><p>“What happened with you and Reno?” The question slipped from his lips before he could pull it back in.</p><p>The stillness of her body, of her expression, unsettled him. The silent anger that had simmered went cold, replaced by hints of sorrow she failed to disguise. “Nothing.”</p><p>Cloud could have left it at that, and should have. “A kiss isn’t nothing.”</p><p>Tifa’s fingers curled tightly into her palms. “Are you going to reprimand me, too? Tell me that I’m betraying my family? Tell me what to do with <em>my </em>life?”</p><p>The accusation caught him off guard. “No—”</p><p>She cut him off, and he watched that previous simmer jump straight to a boil. “I don’t tell you how to live, I don’t tell Barret how to live. But you both leave me to raise children on my own; walk in and out of my life, and somehow you all have the right to dictate how <em>I </em>live? You all have the right to tell <em>me</em> I’m a traitor to their memory?”</p><p>“Tifa, I wasn’t—”</p><p>Petulance leaked out of every word. “It doesn’t even matter anymore, anyway. I don’t get to have what I want.”</p><p>This was bigger than him. He may have set the ball in motion, but the events thereafter had triggered this sadness, this indignation that swung at him like clenched, brazen fists. While he bore some of the blame, it was also shared with others, and he was due to have a chat with at least one of them.</p><p>Cloud held fast to his patience; she deserved no less. “What do you want, Tifa?”</p><p>“It doesn’t matter what I want.”</p><p>“That’s not true,” he insisted, leaning forward for emphasis, “What you want always matters—to the kids, to me. Tell me what it is.” <em>I’ll do anything.</em></p><p>There was a flicker of something behind her glossy, claret irises before it dissolved into nothing. Abruptly, she changed face, forcing a smile and stood. “You must be hungry. I’ll make you something.”</p><p>Tifa crossed the kitchen to the refrigerator beside Cloud, who pivoted in his seat to watch her.</p><p>“How’s a sandwich?” she asked, swinging the door wide, scanning the contents within.</p><p>Drawings, pictures, magnets all littered the door, some old, some new—they all successfully blocked his view from her. He knew it was on purpose. “I’m not hungry.”</p><p>“Of course you are.” The jovial lilt to her voice and the offerings to his belly were little more than a smokescreen. Cloud knew this song and dance too well to be deterred.</p><p>He stood, hovering by the door as he peered at her sternly, “Tifa, stop. You’re avoiding this.”</p><p>She ignored him. “I think I have some lunch meat, mayo. You were never really a fan of mustard, were you? There’s some fresh bread on the count—”</p><p>Cloud slammed the door shut, magnets and drawings rattling with the motion. He didn’t feel like dancing anymore. “We always do this. We always avoid the hard talks.”</p><p>Startled by the closure, she continued to avoid him, glaring into the door weakly. “You run from them.” </p><p>“I did,” he agreed softly. “But I’m not running now.”</p><p>Tifa didn’t move, didn’t speak. She was challenging him with her stubborn reserve, holding her desires close to her chest. </p><p>He started to wonder if the barrier between them was insurmountable. “Do you want me to leave?” </p><p>As the seconds passed, her visage slowly began to soften. A small, tired smile spread across her mouth as she turned to him. Anger still lingered, floating just below the surface, but it was no longer directed at him. While some of it would have been justified, it didn’t all belong to him. “I didn’t want you to leave in the first place. But you’ve been gone so long that…”</p><p>“Things have changed.”</p><p>It wasn’t difficult for him to put it together. There was a point when their paths were one, and they both traversed the road of the future side by side, hand in hand. But as time went by, his path split from where it merged with hers and he left her behind. Now that he’s come to unite with her once more, her course was no longer open to him in the same way it used to be.</p><p>Tifa wanted to move on, and he would let her.</p><p>“I don’t want you to leave,” she said, a tenderness seeping into her tone. “Your family is here, and we’ve missed you.”  </p><p>Cloud smiled, “I’ve missed you all, too.”</p><p>The barrier was crumbling, and relief flowed through him.</p><p>The smile she supplied was equally genuine. “Where exactly did you go? Did you just… travel?”</p><p>Cloud considered how much he should tell her, how much she needed to know. Some of the details were ugly and painful when he looked directly into the face of his demons and banished away their existence. It wasn’t an easy process, and It wasn’t easy to talk about either.</p><p>“For a while, I drifted. I didn’t really know where to go or what to do. I ended up in Cosmo Canyon, and stayed there the majority of the time I was away.”</p><p>“It’s quite peaceful there,” she admitted. “Did you see Nanaki?”</p><p>He recalled the moment Yuffie rang his friend within the first week he’d appeared as an aimless mess.</p><p>Cosmo Canyon, while welcome to travelers and others seeking to learn more about the Planet, it was not terribly welcoming of spies. Regardless, as head of Intelligence, she utilized her resources to get her sights on him, inquiring as to his whereabouts, and if Nanaki had seen Cloud and his Fenrir gallivanting through the barren plains of the Canyon. While looking him in the eye, his four-legged comrade offered a very simple, short answer.</p><p>“No, I didn’t,” he answered her a bit too quickly. </p><p>She didn’t seem to notice. “I guess you didn’t really see anyone we know. I probably would have heard.”</p><p>He felt his chest seize with the guilt of avoidance, hiding his purpose and location. He knew it would hurt her and he did it anyway. </p><p>That one day etched in their mutual history suddenly came to mind. “You know, that day you called? The day of Nibelheim… I’m sorry I didn’t answer.”</p><p>“You never answer. Why would that be any different?” There was a tinge of ironic humor in the question.</p><p>Cloud sighed, “Because I was there. In Nibelheim.” </p><p>Tifa’s face fell with dread, staring at him silently.</p><p>“It was one of the last parts of my healing, to confront my past. Everything was different there, obviously. Our Nibelheim has been replaced. But the ghosts of those memories are still there and I needed to face them. And after all these years, I finally mourned.”</p><p>Aesthetically, their town hadn’t changed from when they first revisited, rebuilt into a replica of their old home with not one recognizable soul from the past. The memories came flooding with a vengeance nonetheless, and he could still feel the heat of the flames licking his skin as his life turned to ash. He forced himself to remember it all; the monster that destroyed his home, the death of his mother, and the loss of himself. He relived the misery and moved through it to the other side. </p><p>The scar tissue of the past would forever remain unsightly and sensitive to the touch, but it made him who he was. </p><p>He wanted to be proud of the person he’d become.</p><p>Cloud studied Tifa as she blinked back the glittering moisture that rimmed her eyes. The admittance broke down the remaining obstruction between them, the recognition of a shared memory, a shared pain bringing them back to a common ground. He could see that she understood his <em>why.</em></p><p>She understood <em>him</em>. </p><p>“Are you better for it? For doing that? For being away?” The inquiry was innocent. The anger was gone completely.</p><p>“Yeah, I am.” he said. “I feel more like a person. Like, a whole person and not just a few slices of one. You know, like a pie.”</p><p>Tifa lifted a brow at him, a slight grin flashing on her face despite the bit of sadness on her features. “So you’re a whole pie now?”</p><p>“Right.” He frowned suddenly, replaying the words over again and wishing he could take them back. “That sounded kind of stupid, huh?”</p><p>Tifa laughed, and the sound of it warmed him all over, even if a blush of embarrassment colored his cheeks. “It sounded just... peachy.”</p><p>Her laughter continued, increasing in intensity. Contagious even, as Cloud found himself chuckling along with her.</p><p>For the first time in a long time, he felt <em>real</em>.</p><p>Two childish voices joined them in their amusement, a flurry of hushed giggles from around the corner.</p><p>“All right you two, come out here,” Tifa commanded. Her laughter faded, but the smile lingered on.</p><p>Denzel and Marlene appeared sheepishly in the doorway, failing at their attempts to hide their grins of whimsy. </p><p>“You’re just in time,” Tifa said. “You get to help me make lunch.” She turned to Cloud, “Why don’t you put Fenrir away in the garage and rest. I’m sure you had a long ride.”</p><p>A peace offering was presented with the suggestion. </p><p>Cloud would take it.</p><p>“Is there any room for it with that punching bag in the way?”</p><p>She grinned coyly. “I’m sure you’ll figure something out.”</p><p>“I’ll open it for you!” Denzel shot off past them through the kitchen before a word of contention could be offered.</p><p>“We’ll take care of you Cloud. You just relax,” Marlene said with a saccharine smile.</p><p>He exchanged a look with Tifa as she drew her fingers through the girls’ hair, smiling as well. They welcomed him home in this way. After such a long stint on his own, it was almost like nothing had changed.</p><p>
  <em>Almost.</em>
</p><p>Cloud went out the front door and gently guided Fenrir into the free space within the garage, occupied by the hanging, beaten punching bag. Denzel laughed hard when it nearly jostled Cloud out of his seat, the weight of its abrupt swing from the motorbike’s nudge sending it whirling. </p><p>The feat was overall successful, the bag leaning against Fenrir at a slant, unmoving.</p><p>Together, they pulled the garage door shut and flipped the latch to secure it.</p><p>“You didn’t just leave for work, did you?” Denzel asked once they’d finished.</p><p>Cloud hesitated before answering. “No, I didn’t. How much did you hear?”</p><p>Denzel’s hands slipped into his pants pockets. “We only heard you talk about Cosmo Canyon.” He looked regretful. “Sorry. We got curious. We shouldn’t have been listening.”</p><p>Scolding him for eavesdropping wasn’t high on his agenda. At least they got a good laugh at his expense. He did worry that the weight of his journey would only further confuse him. “I’m not sure you’ll understand.”</p><p>“I won’t tell Marlene—it can be our secret.”</p><p>Cloud grinned, leaning his back against the closed garage door. Denzel mirrored him. “It’s not really a secret. I’m just not sure you’re old enough to get it.”</p><p>Denzel frowned. “I’ve learned a lot while you’ve been gone. I’ve been the man of the house, so I’ve had to really look after Tifa and Marlene.”</p><p>“That’s good.”</p><p>“I’ve been training too,” he stated proudly. “I don’t have a weapon yet to protect the house yet, but one day I’ll get something like a sword, or an Electro-mag rod.”</p><p>It was Cloud’s turn to frown. “A what?”</p><p>“An Electro-mag rod. Like what Reno has. He let me hold it once. I almost electrocuted myself. He told me not to touch the button, but I wanted to see what it would do.” He paused, eyes downcast as he dug his foot into the cement floor, “Don’t tell Tifa. I said it was an accident. I don’t lie usually, I just really wanted to know what it did.”</p><p>The confession took him by surprise for many reasons, but the lie wasn’t one of them. While curiosity nipped at him, he let it go for now, having interrogated them enough for one day. “Your secret’s safe with me.”</p><p>Denzel smiled. “So, I’ll understand whatever you tell me.”</p><p>Cloud realized he had no hope in getting out of it. It was best to just speak as simply and plainly as possible. “I went away to fix myself.”</p><p>Denzel’s face morphed from tempered interest to a blanket of befuddlement. “I don’t understand.”</p><p>Cloud smirked. Tifa didn’t either, but his tactics had to change when explaining the details to a boy less than half her age. “You know how we fought Sephiroth, saved the Planet, and all that other crazy stuff you’ve heard us talk about?” </p><p>“Yep.”</p><p>“A lot of those things still really bothered me. So I left to go deal with them. As you get older, you carry more things that hurt you, and if you don’t take care of those things when they happen, sometimes they get harder to fix. Sometimes you forget that they’re there, that they’re weighing you down until one day you wake up and you can’t breathe because it’s so heavy and everything hurts.”</p><p>There was a vague hint of understanding on his face as well as a pinch of sympathy. “What did you do?”</p><p>Cloud rested his head against the door, eyes trailing up to the dark and dusty rafters. He’d have to clean those before he left again. “I faced them all, one by one. And it hurt more when I did that.”</p><p>“Why would you do something that hurt you?” Denzel asked, clearly bemused.</p><p>“I didn’t want to, but I had to. Sometimes you have to live through that pain and push through it. Once you've done that, you need to not only forgive yourself for letting that pain hurt you, but those who inflicted pain. Only then can you stand as a complete person without the darkness following you wherever you go.”</p><p>Marlene’s voice cut through their heart to heart. “Come inside! Lunch is almost ready.”</p><p>The two of them shoved off of the door in unison.</p><p>“I get it,” Denzel boldly stated. “You needed to get better in your head so you could be a better person for yourself and the family.”</p><p>Cloud smiled, “Yeah, that’s right.”</p><p>Denzel's eyes fell as he fumbled with the hem of his shirt. “Are you leaving again?”</p><p>It was a conversation he wasn’t quite prepared to have with him just yet. Inevitably, he would seek the open road again, and while he didn’t anticipate his absence to be quite so extended, he knew the truth wasn’t desirable for the kid no matter how it was presented. “Eventually, but not like before, and not for a while.”</p><p>Denzel seemed to briefly ruminate over his answer before he smiled confidently, “It’s okay, I’ll look after things while you're gone.”</p><p>The growing trepidation within Cloud’s chest dissipated at the declaration. The foundation of their family remained solid despite the hole he left behind, the delicate pillars that held it together still intact despite the erosion. There was hope in filling the gaps between its members and settling into a new normal.</p><p>They started to walk toward the door, but Cloud’s curiosity dangled and got the better of him. He resolved to satisfy it while they had privacy. “Denzel, wait.” They stopped, and Denzel looked up at him in response. “Was Tifa happy before Reno left?”</p><p>Denzel suddenly looked older than he was as he answered. “They liked each other, Cloud. I know we’re kids, but we notice things. We notice a lot of things.”</p><p>It was difficult to look at him just then, at the wisdom of his expression and the understanding he held behind his large blue eyes. They had managed to underestimate the children's’ intelligence and observational skills, and had the habit of trying to hide truths from them in which they inevitably uncovered on their own. It was easy to forget that this boy in particular lived a life many adults would never experience within their lifetime. While he still held onto his innocence, he was also capable of comprehending far more than he was given credit for.</p><p>“I know you do.” He wasn’t sure what else to say.</p><p>They shared a moment of silent understanding before Denzel rushed through the doorway and into the kitchen.</p><p>Cloud wasn’t the only one that changed, and it would have been naive to believe everything else would have stayed the same in his absence. Between Shinra extending its tendrils of power into the city of Edge and a broken relationship that rocked the family into a slow dissension, he wasn’t exactly sure if there was anything that could be done to mend it all other than to let time pass.</p><p>As he stood there beyond the kitchen of his home, deliberating over everything he had learned that day, he somehow knew it might be up to him to repair it after all.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Major thanks for the continued comments and kudos.  I know this chapter is a little different with the introduction of Cloud, but he's important to the story for many reasons. Perhaps you might have a clue from this chapter.</p><p>Thanks again for the continued support.  It means so much to me &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Control</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry for the extra long wait--going through some stuff (aren’t we all). Can’t say it won’t happen again, but it’s not intentional. Hopefully the extra meatiness satisfies the delay.</p><p>Super duper thank you to everyone still with it. Major shout outs to my beta for pointing out shit I miss, to Bouncymouse who has continued to be a great sounding board, and to every single person who has read, reviewed, kudo’ed, or simply enjoyed it in silence.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Control</em>
</p><p>The Plaza within Edge was restless with activity, and Reno begrudgingly watched over the expanding crowd.</p><p>Within days of WRO’s announcement that Shinra would oversee the completion of Edge and take the reins in its governance, a sect of its citizens united in their mutual distaste for their new leadership. In lending a helping hand and ample coin to the construction of the city, public opinion was mostly neutral toward Shinra, some even praising their goodwill. The majority either remained silent or accepted the shift without fanfare, while a vocal minority took to the streets. Ill feelings from the past spilled over to the present, and those who loathed Shinra more than life itself demanded to be heard.</p><p>Nearly one-hundred strong, they came to march around the monument—the symbol of survival during the Planet’s darkest hour—that stood at the center of the city. The protesters chanted loud and wildly for Shinra to exit the city and to pay for their crimes against humanity. They were more bark than bite, unwilling to toss a stick of real dynamite. Shinra would only toss it back, and they weren’t large enough in numbers to suffer that kind of retaliation. Their words remained their only weapon.</p><p>While the threat of violence was minimal, Shinra knew this could change on a gil, and countermeasures were put into place.</p><p>Between himself and Elena, Tseng designated Reno to keep the rising unrest under control. As much as he would have preferred a different assignment that didn’t include playing nice with the rabid locals, he found it to be a welcome distraction. He thought the protests pointless however; a waste of time considering there was no chance of Shinra relinquishing its power and WRO too just and cowardly to renege on the agreement. With more than a few handfuls of armed Shinra security on hand, they surrounded the outer perimeter and kept a watchful eye on its development.</p><p><em>Monitor the situation</em>, Tseng ordered. <em>Don’t let the citizens get out of hand but let them vent.</em></p><p>Between the voluntary snip of his budding relationship and the departure of his partner, he felt well and truly alone. With the loss of both pillars, the shudder of instability had him wavering. His current state of mind disgusted him, falling into old, drunken habits to silence the noise of regret. Despite his dour disposition, his temperament was more amicable than Elena’s, who would have been happy to bludgeon the protesters into submission.</p><p>The flask in his breast pocket was a testament to the strain of his addled brain; a comforting and equally destructive companion. The influence of the drink rode his veins and tinged his breath, the haze of it reducing clarity of thought and vision. He knew he should care, but he didn’t.</p><p>It felt like there wasn't much to care about anymore.</p><p>Commotion to his right cleared some of his fog. He turned to catch the tail end of a shove to one guard, who took the blow in stride. The assailants’ fellow protesters hauled the large, salt and pepper haired man away before the situation could escalate. Reno didn’t quite recognize him, his stocky physique and bland features rather unremarkable. But the pure, vile hatred in his sea-green eyes was noteworthy. He’d have to monitor him.</p><p>Reno pulled a quick swig, smoothing out his bubbling annoyance as he approached the clamoring residents. He gave a quick nod of acknowledgment to the guard before he addressed the crowd.</p><p>“Alright guys, listen up!” The chants and the marching continued, but a small group quieted just enough to pay their mind in his direction, including the aggressor. “Let’s not start something we can’t finish, huh? You have a voice and you’re using it. We get it. But this city wouldn’t be standing if not for us—we didn’t summon the end of the world, ya know. So, you can either suck it up and live side by side with us, or you can ship on out. No one’s keepin’ ya here.”</p><p>“Go fuck yourself!” the aggressor spat.</p><p>“We haven’t forgotten about Sector 7!” another man with ashen hair and narrowed black eyes shouted. His gaze was particularly penetrating, and the anger within his expression felt personal.</p><p>The group grew visibly agitated, and Reno suppressed the glare that threatened to surface. <em>Play nice with the locals. </em>“Just keep your hands to yourselves and there won’t be any trouble.”</p><p>Murmurs kicked up as the group seemed to grow even more restless, sideways glances and heated looks exchanged between the lot. He was already sick of them.</p><p>The orange glow in the distance began its slow descent behind gray skyscrapers as Reno positioned himself at the perimeter once more. He took another drink of his flask, gazing toward the shroud of gloom overhead, where pockets of blue gradually darkened with the setting sun.</p><p>Apparently, he wasn’t the only one who couldn’t forget his sin. Signs carried by the masses—most crudely nailed to wooden planks—indicated this, the messaging of each either sloppily scribbled or constructed with a passionate and patient hand. One sign spoke to him directly, one held high by the ashen haired man with the seething black eyes:</p><p>
  <em>Justice for Sector 7.</em>
</p><p>Jokes on them—he was punishing himself well and good without anyone else's help.</p><p>The sneers and glowers they aimed his direction didn’t escape his notice. He was a Turk, and Turks were still a shining symbol of Shinra, an ambassador of the organization. Show disrespect to them, and you show disrespect to Shinra. The level of contempt from the protesters made it abundantly clear just how hated they still were, and he got to receive the brunt of it.</p><p>Maybe bludgeoning them all into submission wasn’t such a terrible idea.</p><p>A presence at his side drew his attention; a tall, dark shadow falling over him. Recognition lit his face as he turned to take in the familiar figure.</p><p>“The hell are you doing here?” asked Reno, taken aback by the appearance.</p><p>Rude focused his gaze out into the crowd, hands shoved into his pockets. He wore his ever-present shades and civilian clothing. In contrast to his normal black attire, he sported something more casual, subtle even—jeans, white tee, and brown coat, something Reno hadn’t seen before. Then again, he couldn’t remember the last time he caught Rude in anything outside of his Turk uniform—the very uniform he hung up for good only days ago.</p><p>“Gathering intelligence.”</p><p>“Ah, the check and balance.” Reno snickered, thinking back to his conversation with Tseng. It felt so long ago. “Don’t ya mean <em>spying</em>?”</p><p>“Same difference.”</p><p>“Isn’t this a conflict of interest or something? <em>Spying</em> on a former employer you still have connections to?”</p><p>Rude shrugged. “Maybe.”</p><p>“Then how the hell did you get this assignment?”</p><p>“Made a deal.”</p><p>Reno looked skeptical. “What kind of <em>deal</em>?”</p><p>“It’s classified.”</p><p>“I guess the days of sleepovers and gossip are over.”</p><p>“Never did like the way you painted my nails.”</p><p>The banter quelled some of the disquiet raging in his head. He blinked back the glaze and cleared his view, the alcohol in his system edging to take control. “How do you like reporting to that pipsqueak?”</p><p>“Could be worse. Could be reporting to you.”</p><p>Reno rolled his eyes and waved a dismissive hand. “Yeah yeah, I know you’re too hard to admit you miss me.” The chanting pressed on as he reached for his pack and lighter, eyes sweeping over the display. “Cassie glad you’re rid of Shinra?”</p><p>There was a long pause, and he turned toward his ex-partner to witness the slight flex in his otherwise stoic expression. “I’m not sure.”</p><p>“Ain’t this what she wanted? Figured she’d be jumping your dick over it.”</p><p>“She didn’t ask me to quit.”</p><p>Reno frowned, the lighter straining beneath his tightening grip. “Sounds like you made a knee jerk decision to me, yo.”</p><p>Rude gave a small sigh, shrugging weakly. “Maybe.”</p><p>This wasn’t what he expected to hear, that his friend left the last bit of family he had to appease a woman who didn’t even ask for it. It made him angry, this admittance. What did he even have to gain from it? Redemption?</p><p>It took but a moment for the realization to strike him, for the understanding to slip in and bring an awareness he may not have been able to see months, even weeks ago.</p><p>They were both fools.</p><p>Reno wedged a cigarette between his lips and lit the end. “I’m not seeing Tifa anymore.”</p><p>Nothing came from Rude, his attention fastened on the swelling protest ahead.</p><p>“Aren’t you going to ask me why?”</p><p>“Does it matter?”</p><p>“I guess not.”</p><p>Reno inhaled deeply, the pull from his smoke filling his lungs with a pleasant sear. He held it there, the noxious fumes scorching, pulling his focus toward something besides the bright-eyed, dark-haired wonder who fluttered across his mind without reprieve. From the flit of her voice to the infectious smile that chased him, he couldn’t seem to escape her.</p><p>Ultimately, he didn’t want to forget her, but just for one Goddamn second, he wished he could.</p><p>“It explains why you smell like a distillery,” Rude said, an upward twitch at the corner of his mouth.</p><p>The smoke of the exhale faded with the breeze. The cigarette did little to settle the pinch of his nerves. “You’re so fucking funny.”</p><p>Several days passed since Rude’s last day with Shinra came and went. The distance between them expanded each one that followed, and Reno knew he was to blame for the withdrawal. He thought it would be an easier separation to force the wedge between them. It was just another notch on his bedpost of mistakes.</p><p>Reno was glad to have him there now. He could certainly use his ear.</p><p>“She told Barret about us,” he said after a time, “and he acted just as you’d expect. Was gonna take the kids from her.”</p><p>Rude glanced over at him. His expression remained even, but the slight crease to the corners of his eyes showed his concern for the topic. “That’s extreme.”</p><p>“Is it?” He reached for his flask, pulling it free from his pocket and taking a drink. He offered it to Rude, who shook his head in decline. “She was sleeping with the enemy. I wanna say I did the right thing. I think I did. Fuck me though... it doesn’t feel like it.”</p><p>“Sounds like you made a knee jerk decision,” said Rude with a smirk.</p><p>“I had to Goddammit,” Reno muttered. He took another swig for good measure before returning the flask to his blazer.</p><p>The journey home was agonizing the night he left her. A blur of space and time with heavy limbs and a salty sting behind his eyes. He convinced himself it was his only recourse and anything else would ensure disaster. But as he stood there gazing out into the angry, boisterous mob while the incandescent sun sunk into the horizon, he questioned whether or not he fucked up again.</p><p>Then he remembered.</p><p>“Denzel’s parents died in the plate drop.”</p><p>Rude offered no reply outside of an acknowledging grunt.</p><p>“She didn’t tell me.” His tone turned solemn, “I was bein’ all buddy buddy with this kid, and I didn’t know I killed his parents. <em>He </em>didn’t know I killed his parents. How fucked up is that?”</p><p>Again, Rude didn’t answer, sights set straight ahead.</p><p>Reno sighed. “I feel like I need to tell him.”</p><p>“Why?” Rude questioned, the slight turn of his head toward Reno indicative of his scrutiny.</p><p>“<em>Now </em>you ask why,” Reno snuffed the unfinished cigarette beneath his shoe. It failed to steady the pitch of his stomach. “He should get to face his family’s killer. Wouldn’t you want to know?”</p><p>“For what purpose?” There was no judgment in the query, but a genuine curiosity difficult to detect.</p><p>“Closure, revenge, all the shit that comes with it.”</p><p>“Forgiveness?”</p><p>Reno scoffed. “That kid ain’t forgiving me for this. And he fucking shouldn’t, yo.”</p><p>The only acceptable outcome was complete and utter animosity. A man of his caliber deserved nothing less. It was something he always knew but didn’t want to accept. Now the truth was clear—the reflection he faced in the mirror was nothing but a blood-soaked monstrosity. It was time he accepted who he was.</p><p>“It was a job. An impersonal job.”</p><p>Reno looked defeated. “And they’re dead all the same, aren’t they?”</p><p>They both turned to survey the crowd together, silence wrapping around them like a warm blanket. For a moment, it felt just like old times.</p><p>Swaths of people stood just outside of the Shinra perimeter. The spectacle drew onlookers, most curious, while others either displayed their support or shook their heads in disapproval. Others had joined the fray from when he’d last taken count, and he noted the green-eyed troublemaker leading the charge, the loudest one from the chorus.</p><p>Rude’s voice cut through the rising dissonance. “Looks like you could have your chance.” He gestured off into the distance, cocking his head diagonally across from them.</p><p>The haze of the drink clouded his vision exponentially, and he knew his mind was compromised because of it. However, the stark angles of yellow were difficult to miss, as was the effulgence of Mako infused cerulean eyes.</p><p>Cloud stood at Denzel’s side from across the way, viewing the protest with indifference, standing within the throng of casual observers. Denzel’s face, framed by the mop of chestnut hair, reflected the wonder that only a child would show from such a rowdy demonstration.</p><p>Whispers of Cloud’s local deliveries and drop-offs reached him not long after he returned to the city. The pit in his stomach sunk deep and anchored when he got the intel. He knew the decision was his alone that brought his time with Tifa to an end. With Strife back in the picture, any thought of potential reconciliation was dead and obliterated. </p><p>Not that he was planning to. She was better off without him.</p><p>“What fuckin’ timing,” he grumbled, eyes narrowing despite himself.</p><p>As if on cue, Denzel’s attention drifted to catch him within his line of sight, the Turk suit and crop of scarlet hair a dead giveaway to his position. An enormous smile spread across his mouth as he made his way through the crowd toward him. The sudden movement appeared to startle Cloud into action, following him quietly.</p><p>Somehow, his eyes locked with Reno, and there was a sudden glint of understanding behind his blues. His countenance was mostly unreadable, as it often was, but it lacked the simmering hostility he was used to. Now, it even looked sympathetic.</p><p>What a fucking disaster.</p><p>“Dammit kid, why can’t you hate me like everyone else?” Reno mumbled, looking back toward the swarm. His stance grew stiff, the hair on his neck standing at attention.</p><p>A rare chuckle came from the friend at his side. “He will.”</p><p>Reno snapped his head to scowl, but Rude was already moving away, fading into the crowd like a ghost.</p><p>He was on his own.</p><p>The pair approached, and Denzel seemed far too enthused to see him for his liking. Regardless, he forced a smirk. “Hey kid, dunno if you should be out here.” He glanced at Cloud, gesturing to the boy. “Ain’t this reckless endangerment or somethin’?”</p><p>“That’s why I’m here,” Cloud offered dryly.</p><p>Reno wondered what Tifa saw in the boring, emotionless nitwit.</p><p>Denzel glanced up at him before looking back out into the crowd. “I wanted to see what was going on in the Plaza. There’s a lot of people here.”</p><p>“Yeah, a bunch of citizens with their panties in wads,” said Reno. “We’ve basically been in charge since Edge’s inception, they just didn’t know it. Now they don’t like it, yo.”</p><p>“Rufus is just letting them do this?” Cloud asked.</p><p>Reno gave a bit of a shrug. “He doesn’t want to be his fathers’ legacy. Let the people vent, he says. If they feel like their voices are being heard, they’ll be more likely to work with us instead of,” he gave Cloud a pointed, knowing look, “blowing shit up.”</p><p>A flicker of something in Cloud’s eye told him he received the delivered insinuation. Otherwise, he appeared unmoved. “Quite a change, coming from him.”</p><p>Reno grinned. “Believe it or not, he actually gives a shit. <em>We</em> give a shit.”</p><p>Cloud studied him, placing him beneath the microscope, seeking out the truth of their intentions—of <em>his </em>intentions.</p><p>Mako eyes always unsettled him, reminding him of a past filled with infusions and experiments. The torture, the transformations, the deaths—the marks forever embedded into his history, memories that couldn’t be expunged.</p><p>A moment or two passed before Cloud’s gaze softened as he nodded. What they saw must have appeased him. “I believe it.”</p><p>Their attention diverted toward the protest as the chants rose sharply in volume. The notable sign from earlier made its round to pass them, large and bold and demanding of attention. The reminder of its existence filled Reno with dread.</p><p>When he looked down at Denzel, he was staring at it too. A forlorn and faraway expression, as if traveling back in time to a place where his parents weren’t dead, and the killer wasn’t his fascination.</p><p>A wave of guilt crashed over him as he swallowed uncomfortably. He didn’t know if it was the right time—perhaps no time was the right time. Regardless, he knew he needed to destroy that fascination as it should have never existed.</p><p>“Keep an eye on those rascals, eh Denzel? I need to bend daddy Strife’s ear for a second.”</p><p>Without contention, Denzel did as directed, turning his sights toward the crowd. The protesters continued their march as the spectators surrounding it slowly grew in number.</p><p>Obvious puzzlement painted Cloud’s face as he followed Reno a few steps from Denzel.</p><p>“What does Denzel know about Sector 7?” Reno asked once out of earshot.</p><p>The confusion didn’t dissipate with the question, but he answered anyway. “That Shinra was responsible.”</p><p>“Shinra, and not me directly?”</p><p>Cloud shook his head cautiously. There was a gap in his understanding regarding the implication, and Reno could see his wheels turning, trying to fill it.</p><p>Reno wasn’t surprised that the kid still didn’t know. He didn’t hear the majority of the fallout, and no one divulged the truth to him afterward. “He needs to know it was me.”</p><p>Cloud looked at him quizzically. “Why would you want that?”</p><p>“Every man deserves to face his family’s killer.”</p><p>A dark shadow passed over Cloud’s visage, and Reno knew he understood. Still, there was some reluctance. “Not sure it’s the right time.”</p><p>“It’ll never be the right fucking time,” he growled. With a sigh, he pulled back his temper. “You saw how the kid looks at me. I don’t deserve that, I don’t deserve any of that kids’ kindness or idolization.”</p><p>Cloud pursed his lips, considering. “Tifa won’t like it.”</p><p>The name was like a boot to his gut. Suddenly, sobriety was much too close for comfort, but the present company had him begrudgingly abstaining. He maintained at least <em>some </em>dignity. “She can’t protect that boy forever. She shouldn’t. And aren’t you his guardian, too? You can make decisions, can’t ya?”</p><p>Cloud didn’t answer, but his eyes narrowed in thought.</p><p>“He’s going to find out, eventually. I just think it should come from me, now, considering...” Reno trailed off, dragging a hand through his hair. His discomfort was visible to anyone watching; tightly furrowed brows, taut lines across his forehead, the incessant tap of his foot to the pavement. He looked ready to explode.</p><p>Cloud must have noticed. “It means that much to you?”</p><p>“Don’t say it like that,” he grumbled, but his face plainly said as much.</p><p>It felt like it was the right thing to do; to tell the kid he was the monster who changed his life from a cushy existence to roaming the streets like a stray cat. But it didn’t stop Reno’s heart from pounding against his ribcage. For a moment, it was all he could hear.</p><p>Silence between them stretched, unnerving him to no end. It was a stupid thing to ask, to be the one to drop the bomb that the blood of Denzel’s parents was on his hands. Maybe Tifa was right, that some truths were better left beneath the rubble. Why reopen those old wounds?</p><p>When Cloud nodded his approval, he knew there was no turning back.</p><p>“Denzel,” Reno called out, “come over here a second.”</p><p>The boy whipped his head around and stepped toward Reno. His expression was light and curious.</p><p>That was all about to change.</p><p>Reno dipped down to him, a knee to the ground as he propped a forearm against the other. “I’m about to tell you something you’re not gonna like, but something you should know. However you react to it, just know that it’s justified, and you shouldn’t feel guilty about it later. But I need you to really listen to everything I’m about to say. You understand?”</p><p>Denzel looked puzzled, cautious even, but nodded all the same. Cloud stood close by but offered them space. Reno was grateful for it, already suffocating under the weight of his own idiocy.</p><p>That infernal sign haunted him in the background. He neared their perch on the front line, and Reno did his best to ignore the distraction, allotting the entirety of his concentration on his confession. Pulling a deep breath to level his nerves, he looked straight at Denzel. “You remember how your parents died in the Sector 7 collapse?”</p><p>The light faded from his eyes, but he nodded slowly. His previous confusion morphed into quiet understanding and something heavier. Sadness maybe.</p><p>“Shinra deployed someone to start the drop. This much you know, I think.”</p><p>Denzel remained quiet. He didn’t contest it, so Reno kept on.</p><p>“That someone fought those you know, those in your new family to accomplish this. Cloud, Tifa, Barret—they were all trying to stop it, and this Shinra employee still fought them off and activated the drop.”</p><p>Reno paused, the chanting surrounding them a layer of white noise. It buzzed in his ear, melding with the hammering within his chest. His concentration faltered as he watched Denzel, wondering what the hell the point of it all was. But he’d come this far, resolved to confess his sin.</p><p>It was now or never.</p><p>“That someone was me.”</p><p>It wasn’t long before understanding glossed over Denzel’s expression. An array of different emotions crossed his eyes, moisture quick to rim the corners as he stared at Reno. There was something else there, previously tucked away. It revealed itself now, as if some long, forgotten part of him already knew.</p><p>Cloud hovered close but stayed silent. Reno didn’t dare chance a glance in his direction.</p><p>“Why?” Denzel finally asked, blinking back the shine of his unshed tears. His inquiry wasn’t much more than a whisper.</p><p>Reno’s throat clenched, taking several beats to find the words to satisfy his question. He dug deep for it, and what he uncovered surprised him. “Because at the time... I thought I was on the right side. That I was inevitably saving more people at the end of it all than destroying. When you tell yourself enough lies for long enough, you think you’re the good guy and that whatever you do to accomplish your end goal is justified. But one day, you wake up and realize the world you helped create is another version of hell you have to live in. Your conscience, the one you tried to keep quiet, comes screaming back at you.”</p><p>Denzel tentatively swallowed. His body stood rigid as he peered into Reno’s face with scrutiny, as if searching for someone that may or may not exist. “Are you a bad person?”</p><p>The question had him reeling. “I don’t know. I’m trying not to be. I’ve got a lot to atone for, and I’m working on it. Shinra’s working on it. The most I can do though, for you, is to tell you I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything you went through because of me and you have every right to hate me and seek revenge when the time is right. Maybe you’ll use my own rod against me.” He smirked sadly, “You’re a natural with it.”</p><p>Reno was met with a vacant expression then, and the stillness of Denzel shook him. Standing from his crouched position, he turned away and faced the protests.</p><p>The man that boy thought he knew pulled back the mask to reveal the truth of his character. It was an ugly, bitter reality they would always have to live with.</p><p>Reno would never have his redemption.</p><p>For now, he waited for the hatred to come, for the venom of his victim’s anger to coat is skin. He waited for tears, or even cold, hard rage. He waited for all of it. He <em>deserved </em>all of it.</p><p>“I forgive you.”</p><p>Denzel knocked him off of his proverbial feet.</p><p>The sudden lump in Reno’s throat choked off his breath as he looked down at him. He appeared sullen, dejected even, but there was an inexplicable calmness about him that rattled Reno to his core. He didn’t understand it. Couldn’t understand it. How could Denzel just <em>forgive</em>? It didn’t make any sense. This was <em>impossible</em>.</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“You have to forgive yourself for letting the pain hurt you and those who inflicted it. Then you can stand as a complete person without the darkness.” He looked toward Cloud. “Right?”</p><p>“That’s right,” Cloud affirmed, brow slightly furrowed as he glanced between the two of them.</p><p>Reno didn’t recognize himself, the desperation that laced his voice. “You shouldn’t. You shouldn’t forgive me. You should hate me for this. You <em>have to</em>.” He was completely dumbfounded.</p><p>“You said however I react is justified.”</p><p>It wasn’t supposed to go like this. It was supposed to be accepted and understood he was a vile monster, undeserving of affection, idolization or forgiveness.</p><p>He couldn’t find the words to express it, so he just said nothing at all.</p><p>The tension grew thick and unbearable before Cloud finally spoke up to disrupt it. “Let’s head home. Tifa could probably use our help.”</p><p>Her name alone carried enough weight to break him. He fought through it, but barely.</p><p>Denzel came to his side obediently. Before they walked off, he turned back to Reno. The sorrow remained, but he seemed resolved to hide it now. “Will you ever come back to Seventh Heaven?”</p><p>He wanted to laugh. He really didn’t understand this kid. “I don’t think so. But...” he noted the disappointment in Denzel’s face before shifting his gaze to Cloud. Licking his lips, dry like his mouth, he forced a grin. “Look after Lockhart, will ya?”</p><p>The response came in the form of a nod, curt and quick. Without another word, Cloud walked from the plaza with Denzel in tow.</p><p>The drink called to Reno like a cloying whisper in the wind, begging him to soothe his tattered nerves with its offering. He watched their silhouettes fade from view as he obeyed the command, pulling out his flask and emptied the contents into his mouth, swallowing the burning liquid in one generous gulp. Wiping his mouth with the back of his wrist, he returned the empty container to his blazer.</p><p>Reno was a dog. And like a dog, Shinra sent him to do whatever was commanded of him to do. It didn’t matter the job, whether espionage or dropping a fucking plate on a section of an unsuspecting city populace; he stepped up to the task and completed his assignment with little complaint. A consummate professional.</p><p>This consummate professional grew a conscience, and that conscience was unceremoniously tearing him to pieces.</p><p>From the corner of his eye, he spied the ashen haired protester with the black eyes standing still and openly staring in his direction. The intensity of the gaze bothered him, and the liquid fire coursing through him clicking his mood toward antsy. When he spared a glance to challenge him to make one false move, he didn’t expect to see pity reflecting back at him. The sign the man proudly held high through the demonstration slowly lowered from its previous heights as he turned his back and disappeared from his sight. Reno glared after him.</p><p>Nothing pissed him off quite like pity.</p><p>His hands itched as he scowled out into the circus. Other signs peaked high as streetlamps flickered to life. Something roiled through him he couldn’t place, but it reached his fingers as they curled into his palms, nails digging into the leather of his gloves.</p><p>This dog wanted a fight. He <em>needed </em>a fight.</p><p>Reno saw him then; those sea-green eyes gleaming beneath the effervescent glow, an inferno of hatred blazing behind them. The sneer at his lip stretched and settled on his mouth as he drew near from the outer circle of his march.</p><p>A predatory grin spread across Reno’s face, his balled fists trembling under the intensity of his grip.</p><p>With the speed of a lightning strike, he crossed the distance between them and met the protester with a left hook across his jaw. His head snapped sideways as he stumbled from the blow.</p><p>Time slowed as shouts and screams rippled across the crowd. Something hard and flat connected with the back of his skull, splintered wood raining down around him. The shock of the hit flashed his vision red, the pain of it dulled only by the poison in his blood. It did nothing to slow him, to cut off the steady pump of his adrenaline—it increased it twofold.</p><p>He swung blindly in retaliation, high and fast. Knuckles connected with something soft and sharp, a wet crunch vibrating with the strike. A cry of agony rang out, and it was the sweetest sound he heard in days.</p><p>Before he could land another, a large and meaty fist connected with his temple and sent him sprawling to the ground. His head cracked against the pavement, stars dancing behind his eyelids.</p><p>They squinted open just as a steel-toed boot drove into his gut, his body recoiling naturally into a fetal position. He choked back the groan. His eyes screwed shut once more as the assault on his person continued from multiple directions. Kicks to his neck, head, arms, legs, back all came fast and heavy.  Hatred for Shinra, hatred for the Turks poured from their mouths as they battered and bruised him. He heard a pop from his ribcage and smirked through to anguish.</p><p>This was what he wanted. This was what he <em>deserved</em>.</p><p>The assault abruptly ended with the clash of flesh against flesh. A sickly echo reverberated, the snap of bone merging with the background of vocal disarray from fleeing protesters and bystanders alike. Shouts and grunts of pain resounded in tandem with each point of contact, adding to the choir of chaos.</p><p>Reno cracked his eyes ajar to see a man drop to the ground beside him, only to scramble backward and onto his feet. Thundering footfalls rumbled beneath him as the fallen man—the same one he merrily clocked in the face to start the ruckus—and his cohorts retreated from the scene and out of sight.</p><p>A man’s voice, deep and commanding, called out above him. He couldn’t make out the words, but they sounded like orders to guards. The voice was familiar, but the drone of his brain hampered his ability to think clearly.</p><p>Suddenly, the man hovered over him, his features indiscernible through his spiraling daze. There was a shake of the round, smooth head as he bent down to move him. The sharp surge of his ribs protested against it as he hoisted Reno up, an arm curling beneath his knees and another around his back below his shoulders.</p><p>When he fully opened his eyes, that familiar voice came with a familiar face. He smirked through the pain. “Ah Rude...you came to my rescue.” The chuckle that followed ended with a gasp.</p><p>Darkness fluttered as consciousness ebbed away, but he heard the note of disapproval in his friends’ tone. “The hell is wrong with you?”</p><p>They were moving, and his eyes momentarily focused on that ashen haired man with the sign in the distance—the catalyst that triggered the mayhem. He laughed, and the pain from his sides sent his world spinning.</p><p>All he wanted to do was sleep, to let the world fade to black. Maybe this time he’d escape the nightmares that plagued him so frequently.</p><p>Rude shook him, and his body screamed at the jostling. “Stay awake.”</p><p>Staying awake was a directive he wasn’t likely to follow for long, the calling toward unconsciousness too difficult to ignore. Still, he opened his eyes just enough to look into Rude’s taut face, lips set tight and thin.</p><p>What was he going to do without him?</p><p>“You know what, partner?” He grinned sleepily, his eyes drooped and drowsy, “We were both wrong. Not quite three days, not quite a week…”</p><p>If there was a reply, it was lost to ether.</p><p>Reno succumbed to the darkness.</p><hr/><p>Seventh Heaven was quiet in light of the protests.</p><p>There was an ominous silence treading through the bar as she and Marlene sat together at one of the center tables, an art pad and colored pencils splayed across the surface. It was expected, but the entire event left Tifa uneasy. Cloud offering to survey the protest put a few of her fears to rest, thankful to have a pair of eyes out there as it unfolded. With Denzel at his side, curious as a boy his age could be and desperate to spend more time with his hero, they set off to take in the scene.</p><p>Whispers of the demonstration circulated around the bar for the past several days before going full speed ahead that late afternoon. A few of her regular patrons were directly involved and inevitably used the bar as a meeting hub during the lunch hour. These gatherings launched her back to her days in Avalanche, and the recollection brought the guilt from her past with it. Memories of that dark past loomed over and followed her like a phantom, dragging many regrets alongside it. Nights of planning, collecting resources, recruitment, loss—the days of old dangled in corners of her mind, the protesters' presence pulling them painfully to the forefront. The foreboding it brought was troubling at best.</p><p>Nevertheless, she let them meet and make their plans, greeting them with a welcoming smile each time. It gave her the opportunity to obtain firsthand knowledge of their intentions. Upon fluttering in and out of their conversations, she was relieved to learn the protests were intended to be peaceful. Still, the anxiety for what was to come brought her sleepless nights. She wondered if Shinra knew. She wondered if <em>he </em>knew...</p><p>The goal was for WRO to rescind the agreement of Governance and for Shinra to, at the very least, pull out of the city entirely. Tifa knew they had no chance since Shinra’s tendrils were deeply rooted, their footprint all over town. They wouldn’t be happy with the result. She desperately hoped it wouldn’t escalate into territory they weren’t prepared to face.</p><p>A part of her wondered if she should intervene and appeal to them on Shinra’s behalf. Perhaps she could ask them to give Shinra a chance to prove themselves and allow the opportunity for good, solid change. They weren’t the same as they were three years ago while under the leadership of the old President—it was possible this governance could be a positive thing. It was a thought that lingered on until she gave up and resigned herself to what lay ahead. What good would it do, anyway? No one listened to her.</p><p>The subtle creak of the door sounded as the glow of streetlamps spilled through the doorway behind the new arrivals. A dusky backdrop outlined the figures of Cloud and Denzel as they stepped through in silence, the door closing behind them.</p><p>Tifa smiled at the pair, but the warmth of her expression faded as she focused on Denzel, studying him. The vibrance of his person was missing, replaced with a dull and grim demeanor. His head tilted at a downward slant, brown locks of hair shielding his eyes from view. She knew the struggle—the internal battle to conceal the truth of his feelings and cast an image of indifference. She could see right through him.</p><p>He was heartbroken.</p><p>“Denzel…” Tifa started but stopped short as his swift gait carried him across the bar. Cold and locked up tight, he didn’t offer a greeting, slipping past them to the bar and behind it. Through the stillness of the venue, she heard his footsteps echo up the stairs.</p><p>She and Marlene abruptly turned to Cloud, the question clear in both their eyes.</p><p>“He’ll be alright, just leave him alone for now,” he said as he crossed the floor, slipping onto one of the bar stools. His manner almost seemed nonchalant, but something stirred beneath the cool exterior. His obvious avoidance told her as much.</p><p>“I’ll go talk to him,” Marlene offered, already gathering her supplies.</p><p>Tifa smiled reassuringly at her, collecting the stray colored pencils and reaching over to stuff them into its box. “Thank you. It’s almost time for bed anyway.”</p><p>Marlene returned the smile, hands clenching the pack of pencils, the art pad pinched securely beneath her arm. Hopping from her chair, she padded her way toward the bar. She slowed suddenly, looking to Cloud with a slight frown. “Did something bad happen at the protest?”</p><p>There was a moment of hesitation before he looked down at her to answer. “No, nothing bad.”</p><p>It appeared to satisfy her. Without another word, she retreated behind the bar and up the steps.</p><p>Tifa’s smile faded as she rose from her chair. She approached Cloud’s side, open concern on her face as she addressed him. “What’s wrong with him?”</p><p>“He’ll be fine.”</p><p>Tifa wasn’t mollified, placing her hands at her hips stubbornly. “Cloud, tell me.”</p><p>She knew his tells. Every microscopic tick of his brow, every twitch of his lip, and precisely what each of them meant. As she observed the slow blink of his blue eyes and downcast look toward the counter, she knew she wasn’t about to like what he was going to tell her.</p><p>“We saw Reno at the Plaza,” he paused, eyes narrowing in thought. “He told him about Sector 7.”</p><p>The reply was like a bullet to her chest. The color drained from her, skin pale as a marble slab. The pit at the base of her belly was heavy like cement, and her heart dropped to meet it.</p><p>He wasn’t supposed to find out like this.</p><p>“I have to go talk to him,” she declared, her voice breaking.</p><p>Cloud shook his head, turning to look at her sternly. “You need to leave him. Let him process it.”</p><p>She knew he was right, but she didn’t like it. More than that—she hated it. What gave <em>Reno </em>the right? What gave him the <em>authority </em>to tell him? It wasn’t his place.</p><p>And Cloud...he just let it <em>happen</em>?</p><p>The opportunity for interrogation evaporated when a flurry of voices sounded behind the entrance before the door swung wide. The room suddenly rumbled with activity, a group of patrons taking post at a corner booth, their conversation lively. With a final look of disapproval, Tifa moved on to greet them, her simmering frustration cooling into a welcoming smile.</p><p>The night wore on as the bar slowly came to life. Talk of the protests dominated the conversations as more and more bodies filled the establishment. A particular detail about the event reached her through the ensemble. The more she heard, the more distressed she became.</p><p>A fight broke out among the protesters. A Turk—the red-headed one with murderous aqua colored eyes—started the brawl with a well-connected swing to Sarno’s jaw. Others who witnessed the scrap leapt into the fray in the man’s defense, which caused a ripple of disorder throughout the crowds. It all ended with everyone within the Plaza scattering like roaches the moment Shinra made a move to take control of the discord.</p><p>No one knew what happened to the Turk, but rumor had it he received quite the beating.</p><p>Tifa weathered the news with a brave face, but her concentration suffered. She forgot orders, produced incorrect drinks, and swapped requests between patrons. While her customers seemed to show a certain amount of patience regarding her blunders, there was distinct displeasure from the quickly growing crowd.</p><p>Angry, concerned, scared—the ceiling was crashing down around her and all she could do was stand and watch it crumble. She realized just how ready she was to burst at the seams, and all because of him. Multiple points within the evening had her reaching for her phone only to withdraw at the last second. He had a life to lead, a path that didn’t converge with her own. They were two different people in two different worlds. Reaching out would only serve to hurt them both. </p><p>“Do you need some help?”</p><p>Tifa snapped her head toward Cloud from behind the bar, a shot glass in one hand and a cloth in the other. He sat at the end, a full beer in front of him. “No, I’ve got it.”</p><p>“You sure? You’ve been standing there for close to five minutes.” </p><p>“You’ve been timing me?” </p><p>"<a id="_GoBack" name="_GoBack"></a>I guess so.” Shaking his head with a small frown, he lifted his beverage and took a drink. “If you need some, I’m here.”</p><p>“I’ve got it,” she insisted, a slight edge to her tone. </p><p>Cloud appeared to let the issue lie, and she was relieved to be greeted by his silence again. </p><p>Tifa would handle it herself, just like she always did.</p><p>Even as she stood there with cloth and glass in hand, she couldn’t recall why she had them in the first place. She knew her head was precisely where it shouldn’t be, locked within a reverie that only served to torture her. The distractions of the bar weren’t enough as they were, slowly falling deeper into a prison of her own making. </p><p>As her turbulent emotions continued its rampage, Tifa gravitated toward liquid therapy. A shot for a customer turned into a shot for herself, throwing the amber fluid back in one smooth swig. The familiar burn slid down her throat and pooled at her belly, giving her cheeks a faint pink flush. It smoothed out some of the edges long enough for her to stuff the inconvenient feelings back into the box from whence they came.</p><p>Somehow, she muscled through the rest of the evening with minimal errors. The last of her distractions departed with the last patron as they dragged themselves out into the city streets. With the door locked and the blinds closed, Tifa’s heart raced as her thoughts spiraled straight toward the man she tried desperately not to think about. </p><p>Images of the bruised and battered Turk with a disheveled scarlet mane and a dirt-streaked complexion played through her mind. The sound of hitched, sputtering breath, and the sight of scraped skin and broken bones sent her stomach tumbling. Despite the fear that churned for him, she was no longer in the position to tend to his wounds inside or out. And yet, the discourse in her head grew into a symphony, the crescendo of the orchestra escalating to a deafening tempo. </p><p>Vice or not, she sought to silence it the only surefire way she knew how.</p><p>Scanning the shelves behind the bar, her eyes fell on a familiar bottle tucked away behind the usual line. Scooting a few aside to reach it, her fingers closed around the neck and pulled it forward. She gazed at the bottle with the green and gold label like an old friend, its contents a bit more than half empty. The memories which spawned from it were both warm and equally somber. It would either silence the noise or add a few more instruments to it. She would take her chances.</p><p>Taking a shot glass from the rack, she rounded the counter to sit beside Cloud. He eyed her carefully, a look of curiosity painting his features as he glanced between Tifa and the bottle in her company.</p><p>“That looks familiar.”</p><p>“It came from you and one of your runs,” she said, screwing off the cap and aiming a hefty pour into the glass.</p><p>“From Corel I think.”</p><p>She nodded without looking at him. “Barnabas.”</p><p>“Yeah, that’s right. Made the stuff himself. When he gave it to me, he said ‘it’ll put hair on your chest son, so don’t let your ol’ lady drink it’.” The flinch was subtle, the realization of the statement slowly registering. He abruptly glued his attention to his beer. </p><p>Tifa thought she should have felt a ping of something from the recollection, a twinge of sentimentality. Nothing came. She took the shot, the abrasive scorch blazing the pathway down her throat. She wasted no time in pouring another. “What do you think about Shinra after today?”</p><p>“I think Rufus might actually mean what he says, from what I saw. And I don’t think Reeve wants a repeat of history. Whatever they worked out, he must be confident that it’ll stick, at least for a while. We’ll have to wait and see.” He stopped, sparing a sideways glance at her. “I don’t think that fight helped public opinion.”</p><p>The imagery of mayhem in the Plaza fluttered across her mind. She downed her beverage, thoughts soon drifting to Denzel and the look in his eye, the pain he fought to hide. Frustration bubbled up as she filled her glass again. “He had no right to tell him.”</p><p>She couldn’t say his name. It hurt too much when she did.</p><p>Cloud slightly tensed, his frame stiff as he leaned his elbows into the bar’s edge. “Denzel had a right to know.”</p><p>“It should have come from me. From <em>us</em>.” With a breath inward, she grappled with her waning temper. “How did it even come up?”</p><p>“Reno asked. He seemed really troubled by it. I gave him the okay.” He looked at her fully, a firm quality to his features he rarely directed at her, “You should have told him before now, when he first showed interest. When you and him...” he didn’t finish. He didn’t have to.</p><p>Tifa focused on a divot ingrained into the surface of the bar top as the tension grew between them. “He wasn’t ready.”</p><p>“He’s ready for a lot more than we give him credit for. Think about what he’s been through. He sees and understands more than we know. He knew about you two.” Cloud drew his finger through the condensation of his beer, dripping and pooling at the base. “If I know you well enough, you didn’t tell the kids about it.”</p><p>“It wasn’t the right time,” she said stubbornly, but she knew it was more than that.</p><p>“Time doesn’t wait. It’s always moving.”</p><p>“Like you?” The moment she said it, she wanted to take it back.</p><p>A small, sad smirk came and went. “Yeah, just like me.” </p><p>The sting that followed didn’t come from the drink as she threw it back and swallowed. There was something unspoken below the surface, something they hadn’t yet fully addressed. They continually skirted around the issue while small insinuations floated in the atmosphere. </p><p>Some things never changed.</p><p>A distant smile colored her face as she changed the subject. “While you’ve been gone, Denzel’s been trying to take on more responsibilities. Barret encouraged him to embrace the mantle of man of the house. He’s really settled into that role.”</p><p>Cloud smirked. “I’m sure it kept him focused.”</p><p>“That’s what Barret said.” She heard the groan of the floodgate as she poured a fresh shot. Something screeched a warning in the back of her mind. She ignored it. “He threatened to take them from me, Denzel and Marlene.”</p><p>He narrowed his eyes. “Barret wouldn’t do it.”</p><p>Tifa took the shot, her lips and mouth sizzling, her head buzzing. There was a quiver to her hand as she filled the glass. The symphony of chaos played on, unrelenting. Briefly, she noted Cloud’s face tightened ever so slightly as she set down the bottle. She ignored that, too. “The threat was enough. I’m a Shinra sympathizer, after all.”</p><p>“He said that?”</p><p>“You know how Barret can be.”</p><p>There was hesitation before he spoke again. His question nearly broke her. “Is that why Reno left?”</p><p>A finger mindlessly circled the rim of her glass as she plummeted into the depths of her grief. It took her days to understand and truly grasp his reasons for walking out on her, on what they had together. He spoke of them honestly and sincerely, but her devastation hindered her from seeing the full spectrum of it. And it wasn’t what she wanted. It was so far from it.</p><p>The floodgate broke open with the intake of her newest drink, the room taking a generous tilt as she did so. The subject she did her best to avoid flowed freely from her mouth without obstruction. It was almost liberating. “He didn't want to break up the family. He didn’t want to see us hurt, even though it wasn’t what I wanted or what he wanted. He did it for us.” </p><p>From the night he left her, she could still feel the impassioned touch of his lips against hers, sorrowful and anguished goodbye. It was the night when everything fell apart against her best efforts, the night she realized what she wanted didn’t matter. </p><p>Cloud took a quick pull from his beer, returning it quietly to its coaster. “That’s selfless of him.”</p><p>“Yeah, it was.” Her eyes lit up suddenly, a tender memory projecting like a motion picture. “He took me to Loveless on a date, you know. And he hates it. He hates that play, but he did it, anyway. I didn’t think he could be so... I don’t know, caring?”</p><p>“Me neither.”</p><p>“I didn’t think anything would come of this, from a one-time no strings attached...you know.” She chuckled, but it was mirthless. “I did it because I missed you, and then I did it because I wanted him. And now…” </p><p>A cascade of thoughts and recollections all came down at once. She plowed through them, bringing her focus back to the present, to the drink that added fuel to their lustful fire. </p><p>“We drank this together.” Tifa pointed to the bottle of Cactus Kick, a sad smile on her face. Her eyes fogged over as she rambled on. “I was embarrassed and felt so stupid. But now I know he did it to protect me, like I tried to protect him and Denzel from the truth of who they were to each other. That blew up in my face, like it always does. Like everything seems to.”</p><p>If Cloud was uncomfortable with the conversation she couldn’t tell. He seemed to take it all in stride. “You did what you thought was right.”</p><p>She poured another, her brows furrowing. The tremor in her hand was more evident now, as was the slur to her speech. “Right is wrong, up is down. Nothing makes sense anymore. We made little sense… and then we did, somehow. He encouraged me to think about myself, to be selfish. And I tried—I even made a list of things I wanted to do, things I wanted to change. That punching bag is a... a thing from it, the things I wrote. I look at it all the time, every day.”</p><p>The list and his lighter were her only mementos of their time together. Those fleeting, beautiful moments that made her feel impossibly whole, made her feel like a wanted woman, a <em>desired </em>woman.</p><p>Perhaps even a loved woman.</p><p>“What else did you write?”</p><p>“Learn to fly a helicopter. It sounds silly, I guess. I kind of asked him if he’d teach me. That’ll never happen now.” She shook her head, moisture standing in her eyes. “Other things too, like nap and learn the Samba.”</p><p>“The Samba?” There was a hint of amusement in his tone.</p><p>Tifa laughed a little. “Yeah, maybe. I was going to see if I could get him…” Her throat constricted as she tried to blink away the heartache.</p><p>Cloud’s visage softened, his cerulean eyes reflecting a tenderness he reserved for her alone. “Talk to me. What do you want?”</p><p>The tremor in her voice rang hollow and strained as the confession she locked away in her heart revealed itself without delay. “Maybe it’s wrong. Maybe it <em>is </em>selfish, but I don’t care anymore. I just want him to come back.”</p><p>She tipped back the shot, a small stream slipping down the side of her mouth as she swallowed the contents in an audible gulp. The glass toppled over when it hit the bar top, falling from her shaky grip. Her eyes glazed over, carried off to a time where she lay within his embrace, surrendering herself to his fervid touch. To a time when the wound in her heart wasn’t hemorrhaging in her chest.</p><p>With arms folding atop the bar, she laid her cheek against them. Staring blankly past Cloud, she stayed in her reverie until the room pitched and her stomach flipped. “I can’t fix this. I don’t know how.”</p><p>“You can’t fix everything.”</p><p>“I know. I couldn’t fix you. You fixed yourself, even though I tried so hard to.”</p><p>“Tifa…” he sighed, looking away to collect a thought or two. When he dragged his eyes back to her, they were earnest and unafraid, “I was messed up, okay? It wasn’t you. It was <em>never </em>you.”</p><p>The assertion should have made her feel better. It only fostered her rising guilt. “I’m sorry I couldn’t wait for you any longer.”</p><p>“I never expected you to. It’s on me.”</p><p>“Time doesn’t wait.” Tifa smiled sadly, her eyes slowly closing against her will. Under the cover of darkness, she saw him there with that cocky grin plastered on his lips and a piercing pair of azure eyes.</p><p>She suddenly felt empty.</p><p>“Maybe you should go to sleep.”</p><p>When she opened her eyes to disrupt the fantasy, Cloud was standing in his place. She nodded weakly into her arms. “I should, shouldn’t I?”</p><p>“Can you walk?”</p><p>Tifa laughed sharply. “Of course I can. I have legs.”</p><p>She slipped from the stool only to have her knees buckle beneath her. Cloud was there in an instant, gripping her arms at the elbows before she hit the floor.</p><p>Her hands landed on his biceps, holding firmly to steady herself on her own two feet. “Always saving me. I don’t need you to anymore, ya know. I’m a big girl.” Conviction was lacking in the statement.</p><p>She felt so small.</p><p>The liquor’s full effect finally hit her. With her body like putty, she struggled to stand on her own, legs wobbly as a newborn while the room spun like a teetotum. The floor seemed like the preferable place to occupy, a perfect spot to curl up and let the velvet black settle in. The thought disappeared when he lifted her, as if she weighed nothing more than a moogle. Instinctively, she slung her arms around his neck as he carried her behind the bar and up the stairwell.</p><p>A semblance of regret rolled through as she traveled back to old times, to old feelings she thought would be forever. Within his arms was somewhere she once yearned to be, where the melody of their existence would join as one. As he brought her to her room, where moonlight spilled through the glass paned window, she knew that time had passed. It wasn’t where she wanted to be. </p><p>Not anymore.</p><p>Cloud was gentle with her, setting her carefully upon the plush comforter, her head lolling onto the pillow underneath it. She welcomed the soft darkness that surrounded them, a pleasing reprieve from harsh lights and spinning atmospheres from below. Unable to make out his form beneath the shroud of obscurity, the depression of the bed alerted her to his presence seated at her side by her thighs. Her feet soon met the cool air as he gently pulled her shoes and socks, followed by a muted thud as they hit the floor.</p><p>“I was angry with myself, when you left,” she blurted out, her voice heavy with the approaching somnolence.</p><p>With the luminescence of the starlit sky at his back, Cloud moved up the length of the bed, coming to sit by her hip. He simply watched her from his position, calm and attentive.</p><p>“I wondered if I should have asked you more questions, asked you to talk to me and tell me how you felt. Maybe you wouldn’t have left if I did.”</p><p>His hand moved through the shroud, a thumb brushing across her wet cheek. She hadn’t realized she’d been crying. “It’s my fault. I should have said something.”</p><p>“It’s okay.”</p><p>Cloud shook his head. “It’s not. It’s not okay.”</p><p>Her eyelids grew heavier by the second. “It will be. It will all be okay.”</p><p>Consciousness hung by a mere, thinning thread. Her eyes fluttered, struggling to keep them open when he spoke, his voice not much more than murmur above the orchestra. “What can I do for you?”</p><p>The flood threatened to seep through the cracks of her resilience, to drown her in its chasm of desolation. She managed to keep it at bay. “If you see him again…please tell him that I miss him. <em>So much.”  </em></p><p>Exhaustion wrapped around her then, pulling her under. She was almost gone, the symphony fading away into the background, when she heard him one final time, the stroke of her hair lulling her faster beneath the veil of sleep.</p><p>“I’ll make it right. I promise.”</p><p>A small smile graced her lips. Her eyes wouldn’t open this time. “You don’t have to save me you know.”  </p><p>He might have replied, but she didn’t hear him.</p><p>Tifa succumbed to the darkness. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Simple</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Big thanks to Bouncymouse for kicking my butt a little bit and taking a peek at the first draft to assure me I was going in the right direction.  And as always, thanks to my beta for making sure I stay in that direction for the final draft.</p><p>As a side note, the early chapters have been edited a bit to tighten the writing and hopefully improve the overall flow. Also, there is some minor additional content through that editing process to improve it overall. No need to re-read if you don't choose to, nothing dramatic changed. But I thought I would mention it as I'm happier with the piece as a whole because of it. Coming off of a 7 year hiatus and diving right into revamping this old work, I like to think I shook off some cobwebs and them some. :D</p><p>Anyway, enjoy! And again...sorry for the delay &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Simple</em>
</p><p>The Shinra building stood tall and ominous against the gloomy backdrop of the city, and Reno couldn’t help but feel a swell of apprehension as he neared it.</p><p>Donning a wrinkled suit and a stark white bandaid at his cheek, he passed through the crystal glass doors of the entrance—and knew his instincts were correct. The dark and grim aura throughout the lobby was a further testament to his summation, as was the heat on his back while he shuffled swiftly for the elevator. He didn’t spare a glance in its direction, the noise from the cluster of tongues no doubt had a word or two to say about him. Any other day he would have had a quip to sling with sarcastic ease, but the sly wind was knocked wholly from his sails.</p><p>The protest encapsulated his thoughts like a dark blot against a pearl white canvas—he could see nothing else.</p><p>Following his rescue, he was partially conscious and half carried by a Shinra grunt into Edge’s hospital against his groggy will. Through X-rays and examinations, it was determined nothing major, aside from his pride, was damaged and managed to miss a nasty concussion. Minus a few cuts, scraps, and broken ribs, he came out of the brawl relatively unscathed. Still, an overnight stay was deemed necessary by the doctors for the sake of caution. </p><p>Reno didn’t have the energy to argue then, and suddenly wished he hadn’t left it now.</p><p>The solitude and silence gave him all too much time to reflect and he ultimately gave into the sordid and reproachful admonishments of himself, leaving him feeling bitter and worthless. With a hazy recollection of details pertaining to the event that saddled him there, he hoped against hope the flask in his coat pocket held some mind numbing nectar for him to siphon. </p><p>No such luck.  </p><p>Sobriety taunted him like a nagging phantom, and he'd give anything to silence it into oblivion. At least the pain medication pumped through his veins just fine. </p><p>His thoughts there drifted to the verbal browbeating he was liable to face as a consequence. It was just like him to go against orders to serve a selfish whim, and there was no one to blame but himself. It was he who dropped the bomb, he who took out his frustrations on the unsuspecting public. The choices he made would inevitably be his undoing.</p><p>As it stood, different rumors circulated throughout the city regarding the fight in the Plaza, but most hinged on Shinra losing its cool and striking out against the citizens. Rufus was quick to provide a message to the public, however, and with the promise of a thorough investigation, he swore strict disciplinary action to those responsible for the discourse. Peace was of the utmost importance, and Rufus would hold to his word. </p><p>Shinra was on thin ice, and all because of Reno’s self-destructive and reckless temper.</p><p>Slipping into the elevator, he ascended to the fifteenth floor solo where his proud stature crumbled beneath the potent throb of his rib cage. The powerful mordicaine drip wore off minutes before he arrived and was left with a bottle of pills in his pocket. He abstained. </p><p>He deserved this.  </p><p>Once the doors split, the silence swirled around him. The hall ahead lay empty, a seemingly endless path where darkness sat thick like an awaiting maw to swallow him whole. A foreboding hovered above as a generous tingle spread from his chest to his fingertips. </p><p>It was time to face the music.</p><p>He was several minutes late as he walked into Tseng’s office, which was far more customary of him than punctuality. When he shut the door behind him, he was assaulted by the icy ambiance which filled the space between them.</p><p>Not a good sign.</p><p>Tseng sat at his desk, his eyes pinned to a file in front of him. When the door clicked, he folded the manila folder shut and gazed up at the new arrival. His brown eyes were dark and neutral. </p><p>“Have a seat,” he said, hands weaving together in front of him.</p><p>Reno did just that, keeping his feet planted firmly to the ground.</p><p>“I would like to hear from you what happened that day.” The tone was dispassionate, yet laced with a sense of vexation that Reno was awfully familiar with.</p><p>His lips curled into a smirk despite himself. “Not even gonna ask how I’m feeling?”</p><p>“No.” The response was as curt as expected.</p><p>“You got the report.”</p><p>“I did.”</p><p>“Then you know what happened.”</p><p>Tseng paused, his expression maintaining its indifference. “Tell me why.”</p><p>Reno shifted, and his body immediately protested against the sway. His face twisted with the motion, pain radiating at his sides, culminating to his center. “He looked at me wrong.”</p><p>Tseng didn’t appear sympathetic. “That’s not an excuse.” </p><p>“I didn’t like his face.”</p><p>“Reno--”</p><p>“What the fuck do you want me to say, huh?” he spat, frustration flashing in his eyes before he could temper the outburst. “That I fucked up? Alright, I fucked up. I took a swing and got the shit kicked out of me over it. He shouldn’t have been harassing our people to start.” He winced at the conclusion, his middle strongly reminding him of its sensitivity.</p><p>The pressure of Tseng’s folded hands intensified just enough to communicate his patience was thinning. “There are other ways to navigate a tenuous situation that do not involve striking citizens.”</p><p>“And why not? It’s what we’re known for, yo.” </p><p>“That image is outdated. We cannot atone for our past transgressions if we continue the behavior from the past.”</p><p>“You mean the <em>behavior </em>that had us dropping plates on families?” Reno surprised himself, his candid response leaving him uncomfortable the moment the words fell from his mouth. His eyes narrowed as he stared toward the corner of the desk, pristine and polished just like its owner.</p><p>“We have done some unfortunate things under the President of old, but it’s your conduct that currently casts the shadow of our former selves.”</p><p>The anger he carried was like a kindle. Not much more than a spark was enough to set it blazing to the sky. His subconscious craved the heat. “So what are you gonna do about it?”</p><p>“What do you think I <em>should</em> do about it?” The inquiry was even, but Reno knew he was pushing him closer to the edge.</p><p>He couldn’t help but snicker. “Doling out reprimands is your jurisdiction, not mine.”</p><p>“How does termination sound?”</p><p>It was a possibility Reno should have expected, but the threat shocked him all the same. He sat still, hands gripping the armrests, leather bound skin straining above the knuckles. Maybe this is what he deserved, but he suddenly didn’t want it. If he felt adrift before, termination would surely see him drown.</p><p>His pride wouldn’t let him beg for a life raft. “Get it over with, then.”</p><p>Tseng's gaze was scrutinizing, placing him beneath the spotlight. Each and every one of his ticks exposed under the proverbial fluorescents. He saw the dirt along with the well-kept and hidden secrets. </p><p>He saw his suffering. </p><p>“Would this behavior have anything to do with Ms. Lockhart?”</p><p>The question itself appeared innocuous, but with it carried an insinuation Reno didn’t believe Tseng could ever truly understand. As his mind spiraled further into its depths to search for something to say, sarcastic or witty or anything to pivot the dog from the scent of the impetus, he came up empty-handed. He looked up to lock eyes with Tseng, who stared back with a penetrating gaze that continued to leave him speechless. </p><p>“I thought perhaps this impulse of yours to start trouble had to do with Rude’s departure. You never outgrew the compulsion to bring destruction to yourself when your emotions are off center. But I received a much different answer than I expected when I spoke to him.”</p><p><em>That traitor.</em> Reno’s expression shifted into a full glare, pursing his lips as he immediately thought of breaking his best friend’s nose. “Well, he’s mistaken.”</p><p>“I think perhaps--”</p><p>“I said he’s <em>fuckin</em>’ mistaken,” he snapped, his hands curling into fists. Clearly the topic of Tifa was a far more sensitive subject than he was willing to pay mind to. Denial was so much easier than accepting its existence. “Neither of you know what the fuck you’re talking about, so let’s put this song and dance to bed and just fucking fire me already.”</p><p>Reno felt suspended in eternity as he waited for the hammer to drop, for the end of his career to come upon him like a firing squad, the blasts from the barrel to strike him down. But as he waited for the words to come, for the finality to draw upon him and close out another curtain on his stage of existence, he caught the glint of something within Tseng’s eyes.</p><p>Compassion.</p><p>It made him <em>furious</em>.</p><p>There was no hammer, but a question in its stead. “Why are you doing this to yourself?”</p><p>The query took him aback, and ordinarily his knee jerk reaction would be deflection. To his own surprise, he dove deep for an answer.</p><p>Self-flagellation had always been the way of handling his most troubling and biting emotions. He was often a puppet on string, commanded to carry out the requests of others despite any moral quandary that followed. Only when he hid away his gnawing conscience beneath the veil of external pleasures was he able to enjoy some semblance of being where he didn’t punish himself for his failures in morality. Years of ignoring a screaming conscience led him to the inevitable moment where he faced them all at once and didn’t know what to do about any of them.</p><p>Even if those affected forgave him.</p><p>And within that undercurrent of his tumultuous self rebuke was her voice and visage, spilling into with his sea of regrets. </p><p>She was everything, and it made him feel like nothing.</p><p>It was all too difficult to put into words. “I don’t know.” </p><p>“If you’re to remain with Shinra, you will need to figure that out.” </p><p>Reno stared at him, slack jawed and visibly incredulous. “I ain’t termed?”</p><p>Some tension eased from Tseng’s hands as they slipped from the desk and into his lap. “I negotiated a compromise with the President. Your behavior has lost favor with him. I admit his first response was to indeed let you go. However, we reached an understanding.”</p><p>“And that is?”</p><p>“One month suspension without pay,” he said. “It will inevitably leave us temporarily short-handed, but given the circumstances, this appears to be the more viable option.” </p><p>The Turk recruitment program wasn’t even off the ground yet and here he was fracturing their limited ranks. What timing.</p><p>He was an inconsiderate asshole.</p><p>“Upon your return, we will assign you a therapist to work through your more volatile issues. I trust you’ll treat this one with a bit more respect.”</p><p>Reno never had a good time with shrinks. Poking him with questions, prying open his skull to view the bits and pieces that were damaged and decayed sent him barreling for the exit or spitting venom at their feet. It was many years ago since he’d seen one last, company issued, and the result was a prompt resignation after two sessions and a trail of tears. They never bothered again after that. </p><p>To suggest it now meant his head was hanging from the guillotine.</p><p>His stubborn resolve wouldn’t allow him to agree without a fight. “I’m dealing with my shit just fine.”</p><p>“The Plaza report says differently.” The neutrality of his voice was unshakable, “You take it or you walk.” </p><p>“Maybe I’ll just go to WRO.”</p><p>“And you honestly think they’ll take you?” </p><p>The question stung far more than he thought it should have. The gravity of his explosion suddenly came crashing down. Shinra maintained its tarnished image because of him. </p><p>He ruined everything he touched.</p><p>Tseng paused, awaiting another retort. When none was forthcoming, he continued, “This is your one and only chance, Reno.”</p><p>Indignation crept its way in, uninvited. “I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t ask you to stick your neck out for me.”  </p><p>“You’re right, you didn’t. But lucky for you, I did anyway. So you have a choice.” Tseng leaned forward, his forearms propped at the corner of the desk as he directed the intensity of his stare into Reno’s obstinate eyes, “Do you choose self destruction, a path that leads away from Shinra into the depths of the bottle where you’ll likely live until the end of your days? Or is there a sliver of self-preservation lingering somewhere that agrees to grasp the lifeline we’re offering?”</p><p>Tseng dangled another choice before him, and he now faced a split path in the road of his future. All too often he’d made the wrong choice, taken the wrong path and floundered to right himself. The right choice should have been simple; it should have been obvious. But like vines sprouting from the soil, regret wrapped around him and held him in place.</p><p>“How do you do it?” Reno suddenly asked, his focus pinned to Tseng. When he angled his head in confusion, Reno expanded, “How do you handle the guilt?”</p><p>An uncharacteristic flicker of emotion crossed Tseng’s eyes, something soft and tender yet razor sharp and caustic. When he blinked, it vanished, the mask of cool indifference returning. “I once thought being a Turk required detachment, a certain apathy to maintain. I adopted that process, and while it was mostly suitable for the duties we carried out, it was unsustainable. Eventually, those unconscionable memories remind you of their existence. Usually, it’s when you’re staring death in the eye with the glow of the Lifestream at its back.”</p><p>The biting frost from the reference coated Reno’s skin as Tseng appeared to travel through time, standing to bare the steel of the adversarial blade across his flesh all over again. </p><p>Tseng took in a breath and exhaled, as if to release himself from the coils of the past. “I looked at those memories and I accepted them. I moved on.” </p><p>“It ain’t that simple,” Reno retorted, but he felt the stubborn resolve slowly drain away.</p><p>“Have you tried it? Because I believe your current methods are failing you.” </p><p>His words of warning finally registered, and a cold drip of fear trickled down his spine. The temptation to dive deep into old habits was maddeningly hypnotic, but there was still just enough life in him yet to not give up. </p><p>The fight within Reno slowly deflated. With a wordless nod, the vines recoiled and set him free. </p><p>The choice was obvious.</p><p>A twitch of satisfaction curled at Tseng’s lips as his posture relaxed. “I’m sure you’ll work it all out with your therapist. Just don’t drown yourself before you do.” He flicked his hand toward the exit.  “You’re dismissed.” </p><p>Reno shoved himself to his feet and moved for the door. </p><p>He walked in expecting the worst and was handed an alternative course. The obvious choice at the fork in the road carried a plethora of internal work. While he wasn’t certain he could emerge on the other side of the forest without hopping onto the path of self destruction all over again, a lingering fragment of self-preservation came to his rescue and took the first right step forward to give him a fighting chance. </p><p>Maybe he deserved the worst, but he owed it to Tseng to try his best.</p><p>Reno stopped once he reached the door, turning to him with taut lips and clouded eyes. Whether it was from the pain in his ribs or something more emotive, he’d never tell. “Thanks, boss.”</p><p>“Don’t disappoint me,” Tseng replied, his initial expression unreadable. However, there was an ever so slight shift, a thin layer of tenderness rising above the stoic apathy. “Matters of the Heart are never easy to overcome, no matter how it ends.”</p><p>The proclamation struck him like a bullet, and he did all he could to maintain a brave face and silently leave the office.</p><p>As he stood outside of the closed door he thought of her, as he always did, as he probably always would. He thought of the choices he made that led them there, the first choice he gave her that started it all, the choice she gave him that decided the path they traversed together, and the choice he made that broke them apart.</p><p>His phone was suddenly in his hand, the display window illuminating her name. The temptation to reach her was overwhelming, like a sailor to a Siren. But as the pain in his sides joined with the pain in his chest, merging into a steady, pulsating agony, he knew it would be a mistake. </p><p>Things were better this way.</p><p>For <em>their</em> sake.</p><p>Shoving his phone back into his pocket, he rushed through the hall to the elevator as the feelings of self-reproach came flooding in. With far too much time on his hands, he resolved to numb himself the best way he knew how. Perhaps then the face of regret would blur into nothingness.</p><p>He could only hope.</p><p>Reno didn’t know what else to do.</p><hr/><p>An inebriated slumber did little to ease Tifa’s troubled heart.</p><p>Her night of drinking with Cloud was a haze that she didn’t care to revisit, and he was kind enough to avoid the subject entirely. However, something seemed different about him thereafter that she couldn’t quite place. She didn’t press or pry, giving him space just as she always did. He was in a better head space now—he would come to her when he was ready. Deliveries would have him away most of the day, anyway. </p><p>She could wait.</p><p>It was Denzel who worried her most. His distance remained steady throughout the morning as she took him and Marlene to school, not offering much unless directly spoken to. She knew she needed to give him the chance to work through his emotions on his own, just as Cloud suggested, but she couldn’t bear to watch him suffer in silence. </p><p>The specific culprit who started the Plaza fiasco was never publicly named, but a statement from Rufus advised that those responsible would be disciplined appropriately. The message to keep peace was reinforced, and Tifa had the feeling that he meant it. Unfortunately, not everyone appeared to feel the same as evidenced by the lunch hour discussion in the bar that afternoon. The protesters gathered as they had days prior to the event, their conversations borderline combative and aggressive in nature. Whatever plans they were deciding upon next, they didn’t all seem to agree on the execution. </p><p>She wove in and out of those conversations with a deafened ear. The less she heard, the better.</p><p>Reno filled the spaces within her mind despite her will to push him out. If the rumors were true, that he was responsible for the episode, she was afraid of the impending consequence he would face because of it. Shinra was his life, and to lose it would mean a bleak and liquor filled slump. He was self-destructive; just as he was in the Plaza, just as he had always been. She couldn’t save him. He would have to save himself.</p><p>She hoped that he could.</p><p>The park was on the agenda after school concluded at Marlene’s insistence. She filled the drive with her bubbly recount of her day while Denzel took the back seat in silence. Tifa entertained Marlene’s chatter, but her eye periodically wandered to the boy through the rearview. His silence and distance worried her, but she refrained from engaging him. She would have to let him be until he came around on his own. It was the least she could do.</p><p>A gray, misty overcast settled upon Edge as sharp fragments of gold peeked through the darkened obscurity as the trio took the flowered path toward the playground. A songbirds lullaby sounded overhead, distant and sporadic, while surrounding city life with its roaring engines came in waves. A gentle breeze wafted through, disturbing dewdrops carefully clinging to the soft yellow and white petals of lilies peppered between the greenery at either side of the walkway. Their aroma filled Tifa’s senses with their essence, and with it came a memory that left her breathless.</p><p>Propelled through the kaleidoscope of recollection, she traveled to a night which buried itself deep within her sensory. To a time where they traversed the flowered path hand in hand, where her feet grew cold within a moment of fluttering whispers. When he opened himself and exposed the rawest, darkest piece of himself to her. When he took the chance to prove himself, his worth, just for her.</p><p>And then it was all gone.</p><p>Marlene’s face brightened as they neared the playground. The space was a near replica of the historic Sector 6 location with the addition of monkey bars and a boxed sand pit now thoroughly disturbed with use. For those who remembered, it served as a bit of bittersweet nostalgia to the residents of old Midgar. For Tifa, there were no words to adequately describe its significance. </p><p>She would never forget, even if she could forgive.  </p><p>A quick glance at Tifa made the wide-eyed plea, and a small smile in return signaled the reply. Beaming, Marlene shot off toward her comrades, childish laughter trailing behind her as a few recognizable companions craned their heads with wide grins toward the new arrival and waved her over.</p><p>At least someone was in high spirits.</p><p>Tifa sat at a bench a few feet from the play area, and Denzel took a place beside her with a gaping space beside her. There was a quiet moment between them as she looked out toward the children, playing gleefully without a care, without a heartache to haunt them. </p><p>She hoped they could hold on to that innocence for just a little longer. </p><p>“Are you feeling better?”</p><p>Tifa blinked herself free from her internal dialogue and gazed over at Denzel, the tight expression from her reverie softening for him. “What about?”</p><p>“I... Marlene was worried after that night. You were really sad, and she didn’t know how to help you.”</p><p>The uncertain shift in his eyes told her something more was coasting on the outskirts of his thoughts, yet he just couldn’t quite bring himself to speak of it. She wouldn’t push—any progress was good progress.</p><p>Tifa gave him a reassuring smile. “Sometimes what hurts ends up working itself out.”</p><p>“What if it doesn’t? What if it still hurts, even after…” he trailed off, hands fumbling and fidgeting in his lap.</p><p>The visible struggle gave her pause. As much as she wanted to reach out and cradle him, to soothe away the demons which plagued him, he had already outgrown that tactile level of comfort. “Time often heals all wounds. But, in the meantime, sometimes talking about them can help the healing process.”</p><p>“Did time heal you?”</p><p>It didn’t, but she couldn’t bring herself to tell him that. Instead, she fell quiet, her thoughts drifting back to her recent loss; to the fleeting warmth of a touch and a sardonic grin accompanying a mischievous vista. Her eyes clouded with the vision as her heart hammered sonorously.</p><p>Denzel’s voice was soft when he spoke, replicating the comforting tone she often provided to him. “I’ll talk to you if you talk to me.”</p><p>Perhaps Cloud was right—perhaps he could handle much more than she gave him credit for.</p><p>Tifa dug her fingers into her knees then, the tension rising her in shoulders and locking them taut. “I think about him a lot. About Reno.”</p><p>His face grew somber with the admission, eyes drifting ahead. “Me too.”</p><p>The talk she hoped for teetered on the horizon, and she realized she wasn’t ready for it. “Denzel…”</p><p>“Why didn’t you tell me?” He didn’t look at her when he asked.</p><p>Tifa swallowed, the pressure at her knees tightening still. “I wanted to protect you both from bad feelings.”</p><p>“Because you didn’t want us to hurt over it?” his head dipped to focus on his hands. “That’s what Cloud said.”</p><p>She nodded. “But you did anyway. I guess it didn’t help you. I should have known better.”</p><p>Denzel paused, his eyes narrowing in contemplation. “Dad worked for Shinra. He wasn’t a bad person. Arkham worked for Shinra too, and he wasn’t bad. And Reeve... he’s not a bad person. You like Reno and you don’t like bad people.”</p><p>While his words shouldn’t have surprised her, they did. As much as she fought to hide the pain, the tender feelings she held for the Turk from them all, it was far too easy for them to see it. They witnessed her sadness, her grief. What other conclusion was there to draw? She underestimated them.</p><p>“There were many people who worked for Shinra who were stuck and couldn’t get out. They did things they regret because they were forced to,” she said, casting a glance toward the playground. The smiles and laughter pouring forth kept the burning ember of her hope alive.</p><p>“Was Reno forced to…?”</p><p>“In a way, I think. None of us had simple choices back then. Even us, even Avalanche.”</p><p>“You hurt people, too...”</p><p>Tifa bit her lip, the reflection of the past weaving in on warped glass. “Yeah... we did.”</p><p>“And you feel bad about it?”</p><p>Her eyes narrowed slightly at the inquiry. “Of course I do. I think about it a lot. If what we did made a difference.”</p><p>“Do you think it did?”</p><p>It was something she spent years turning over in her head. She frequently attempted to grasp a definitive answer to the same query time and time again; the blood shed, the darkened streets, the contentious disagreements all in the Planet's name. But it wasn’t just for the Planet. It never really was. “I’m not so sure.”</p><p>Denzel didn’t follow up immediately, and Tifa was grateful for the brief lull between them. When he did, her heart wailed in reply. “Is Reno staying away because of me?”</p><p>Another night she would never forget. Another night she wished she could. “No...it’s complicated.”</p><p>“I asked him if he’d come back. To the bar.”</p><p>The chorus in her chest rose its tempo as the world spun once before settling on its axis. “What did he say?”</p><p>He toyed with the hem of his shirt through the corner of her eye, small fingertips picking at the fabric. “‘I don’t think so, kid.’ He also told Cloud to look after you.”</p><p>The grip at her knees strengthened, nails digging deep crescents into her skin as she closed her eyes against the swell of pain that greeted her. </p><p>Denzel scooted closer to her, the length of his arm hovering by her own. “Cloud is gonna have to leave again. When he does, I’ll look after you. But... if you want Reno to come back, I don’t mind.”</p><p>She smiled sadly. “It’s not really up to me.”</p><p>“Just ask him to come back.”</p><p>Tifa shook her head. “It’s not that simple.”</p><p>“Why not? I forgave him.” </p><p>“Maybe he hasn’t forgiven himself.”</p><p>“Oh,” he paused, palms resting on his thighs. She watched his fingers twitch, suddenly anxious to move them, to do something with them. “Maybe when he does, he’ll come back.”</p><p>No matter how much older he wanted to be, he was still a boy whose optimism managed to shine the brightest light on the darkest of nights. Time and experience would eventually grant him a fogged up lens of bitterness to peer through and view the World. </p><p>If only she could see it through his eyes as he did now—it would be a second chance she wouldn’t take for granted. </p><p>For now, she smiled through the pessimism of her reality and reached for his hand. “I hope so.”</p><p>Denzel returned the smile and accepted it, the warmth of his touch granting her a shred of comfort she didn’t know she needed. “Me too.”</p><p>They stayed like that for some time, watching the murky fog roll across the sky, casting long, dark shadows along the ground. Time was fleeting; moving on, moving forward, and moving away until the threads of life and love were no longer within reach. Until past regrets of missed opportunity were gone forever. As her eyes settled on the children, whose lives had only just begun to flourish into a promising, more tangible tomorrow, that ember burned even brighter than before.</p><p>Her happiness was worth the sacrifice.</p><p>“Why don’t you go play with Marlene and others.”</p><p>Denzel looked up at her curiously, hand still nestled within the confines of her own. “Why?”</p><p>“I need you to be a kid,” she said, returning his gaze. “I need you to play while you can, when you can, before time catches up and takes it from you. You’re already so grown up.” She pursed her lips, giving his small hand a gentle squeeze. “Just a little longer, okay?”</p><p><a id="docs-internal-guid-4c2bd3f8-7fff-bd32-ef30-037f89e8dc58" name="docs-internal-guid-4c2bd3f8-7fff-bd32-ef30-037f89e8dc58"></a>He looked out into the expanse of the park, toward Marlene and her friends who joyously pushed one another on the swing set, giggling into the open air. It was a while before he finally acquiesced to the request, carefully pulling his hand from her grip. “Okay.”</p><p>She watched him hop onto his feet and rush off to join the others, a small skip in his step as he went.</p><p>The moment he left her was the moment her face crumbled, fighting back the sudden wave of emotion that threatened to drown her. Her thoughts cascaded back to him, back to blazing tendrils of red, to dual oceans of aqua blue. How it should have been simple to ask him back, how it should have been simple to make that choice. Perhaps Denzel was right.</p><p>She didn’t know when her phone landed in her palm, and she didn’t know when she sought out his contact, but his name glowed like a lighthouse beacon to a weary sailor out at sea. Why <em>couldn’t </em>she just ask him?</p><p>Because life wasn’t simple anymore. It never would be again. </p><p>Not for them.</p><p>Flipping the phone shut, she gazed out across the park where her sights fell upon the lilies, softly swaying in the wind. Those droplets clung ever so stubbornly. </p><p>Time would have to mend this wound.</p><p>Tifa didn’t know what else to do.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Mordicaine is my FFVII's version of morphine. I just made shit up.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Soldier</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>Soldier</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>When a stubborn restlessness settled in at his core, Cloud busied himself to stay focused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The simple, mindless chore of the dusty rafters drifted to the forefront of his mind once Tifa pulled her vehicle from the garage, leaving ample space for the ladder he would inevitably need to complete it. The dust clinging overhead had piled up over time, creating a thick sheet of gray sitting atop the high beams. Each waft of air disturbed the layer, breaking off bits and pieces, releasing them in a whirlwind throughout the space. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was time to expunge it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cloud was honest with himself now, and such mundane tasks allowed him the time to try to work through another problem he had no tools to fix. He found himself stuck within the muck of his own thoughts, utterly paralyzed by them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tifa revealed much of her thoughts and feelings to him with the help of liquid truth, and he wondered if she would have been so forthcoming without it. Through her out-pour of emotions that came like a tumultuous waterfall of sorrow, he could see clearly it was not only his departure that left painful scars, but a life void of choice that cut her deep. He felt those heart wrenching admissions within his chest, birthing an unrelenting ache. His need to fix everything which was broken called out to him obsessively. But it was that slip of parchment, that handwritten document of her deepest desires, still likely sitting upon her nightstand, that told the unmistakable truth of it all. One specific item was enough for him to understand the affections for another ran much deeper than surface level. He couldn’t help but wonder for how long.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was nothing he wanted more than to save her, but with no tangible adversary to fight he was a soldier without a target, without an executable mission—there was no monster to slay, no artifact to collect, no one to overthrow. He was lost without a purpose, and his hands itched to do something, anything to ease the desire to fight a battle he couldn’t see. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The magnetic pull of the road called to him again, yet he ignored it. They needed him here, for now, and he would oblige the wordless request.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The ladder shook slightly beneath his weight as he ascended the steps, carefully securing his foothold as he took one after another. He held a small vacuum in one hand and its nozzle in the other, his weight leaning forward to maintain an even distribution. Denzel stood at the base, holding firm to the steel legs, keeping it in place. His insistence to be helpful was difficult to dissuade, so he didn’t bother. Marlene was more than capable of occupying herself with her portraits in the other room, anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>While Tifa appeared to be successfully hiding her emotions, Denzel’s spirits were visibly higher than before. No longer did he carry a cold, downtrodden air when the truth of a dark deed from his past was broken to him. Something that would have taken most adults weeks, months, or perhaps a lifetime to slough through took the boy a couple days to reconcile with. Cloud wasn’t certain he was convinced, but if those demons still haunted him there was little indication of their existence. He was becoming a bit like Tifa in that regard, and it worried him more than it should.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His thumb hovered over the switch for the vacuum as he heard Denzel speak from below. “Why are you cleaning up there, anyway? No one sees it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cloud set it at the top step and peered down at him. “Well, sometimes you have to clean things that no one sees.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why?” Large, blue eyes slightly narrowed with the query.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just because you don’t see it doesn’t mean it’s not affecting you or someone else.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But it’s just dust.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cloud gave a small sigh along with a patient smile. He suddenly realized how much he missed such teaching moments, even if they could be grating encounters. He wondered if his mother had felt the same way with his own questions. It suddenly bothered him he'd never be able to ask her. Dark thoughts of the past came spiraling forward and pushed through them to revisit the present. “Every time the garage door opens and there’s a breeze or something, the dust flies everywhere. It can get on your clothes, in your hair, in your mouth.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” Denzel’s face relaxed, the dawn of understanding clear in his expression. “That makes sense.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When the inquiries seemed to end, Cloud flipped the switch. The sound of the motor rumbled throughout the garage, the powerful buzz of it rippling from his palm to his shoulder. With the nozzle held firmly in his grip, he positioned the flat of it against the beam and pulled the offending gray matter into its canister. It didn’t stand a chance. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The battle against the dust bunnies was the only battle he had to fight for the moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With half of the first beam cleared, he shut the motor off and made his descent from the ladder, vacuum in tow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I could do that,” Denzel said once he reached the bottom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cloud set the vacuum down and gripped two legs of the ladder. “Maybe, but I think you might be a little too short right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Denzel positioned himself in place on the opposite side, and the two lifted the ladder, moving it over to reach the rest of the beam. “I’m growing pretty fast, though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, you are. Next time.” He left the ladder and crossed the room to retrieve the vacuum. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like when you leave?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cloud paused, reflecting on the statement. There was no ruefulness to it, just acceptance. The expectation of his eventual departure had evidently been thoroughly sewn into his mind. He wasn’t sure how he felt about it, but there was comfort in knowing he had no plans to leave any time soon. “You don’t have to take on so much responsibility you know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, that’s what Tifa said. She wants me to be a kid. But someone has to help her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think you’re helping her by doing what she asks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A notable pensiveness suddenly washed over his visage while gripping the ladder, holding it steady. “She doesn’t really ask, though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Moving back to the ladder, he gave Denzel a look of consolation. There was more to his words than he needed to express. “Yeah, I know…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cloud lifted the vacuum back in hand just as a delighted squeal of elation sliced through the garage followed by a “Daddy!”. The two glanced at one another before Denzel released the ladder and shot off through the doorway. Dropping the item in hand once more, Cloud followed him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cutting through the kitchen and passing the bar counter, he witnessed an excited Marlene within the thick tree-trunk arms of Barret. His expression matched her verbal cues of joy, with his face split wide by a grin. “Marlene! How you been, my sweet princess?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t say you were coming home!” she said as he set her back down to the floor, almost reluctantly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Daddy had some business with WRO to take care of and decided I’d come by for a couple days.” The grin suddenly faded. It was clear he was attempting to push down whatever negative feelings rose to the surface linked with it. “Wanted it to be a surprise. That alright with you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marlene giggled with a snort. “Of course. That’s a silly thing to ask.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Barret looked up to the new arrivals, his attention moving from Denzel, who took a place beside Marlene, to Cloud. That grin shortened further at the sight of him. “I see you made it home alright, Spike.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cloud nodded. “In one piece.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Barret opened his mouth to say something else but shut it, nodding as well. When his eyes shifted to Denzel, a bit of his joviality returned. “And how’s my man of the house doin’?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He beamed. “Good. Me and Cloud were cleaning the rafters in the garage.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Barret quirked a brow. “Why the hell y’all doin’ that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Denzel frowned at him as if he should know the answer. “Because you have to clean the things you can’t see sometimes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Barret chuckled. “I guess you’re right.” He paused, casting a careful glance around. “Where’s Tifa?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“At the store,” Marlene answered. “She’ll be back soon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>An unspoken tension suddenly permeated the air. Cloud felt it, heavy and leaden. Even the children seemed to bristle against the shift in atmosphere.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, all right then,” Barret said, his tone stiff with apprehension.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was within that moment when it became clear of an obligation, a duty Cloud had to uphold. While the company of Avalanche in its professional form had dissolved, he held an unspoken leadership within their family. He was the alpha of their wolf pack and with it came responsibilities. One of those responsibilities was keeping the peace.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Barret...there’s something I need to show you. Upstairs. About business.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They shared a look. Barret gave a slow, cautious nod and turned to the children. “Hey kids, me and Cloud will be back. You two hang tight down here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Denzel and Marlene gave a look of their own to each other before wordlessly heading toward Marlene’s artwork, paper and pencils sprawled across the table's surface. “Denzel, come look. I’m almost done…” she said as they parted from the men.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They knew something was up, yet they knew better than to ask questions.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cloud led the way up the stairs with Barret following closely behind. His large presence was like an ogre at his back, the steps creaking beneath his weight as they ascended. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As they made the trek, he couldn’t help but run through the different scenarios he was likely to face with this confrontation. Barret was easily agitated, like poking a bear with a long stick. It didn’t take long for him to swipe, and he thankfully had the skills to dodge his paw if it came swinging.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They reached the office and Cloud entered first. Barret closed the door behind him and hovered by it. “What you got for me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His arms crossed once more at his chest as he faced the bear, whose eyes were bright with expectation. “I heard about what happened between you and Tifa.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Barret visibly tensed as those eyes dulled, his lips tightening into a thin, straight line. “I see.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think you should apologize.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The statement didn’t exactly surprise him, yet his body language stiffened further despite himself. “I might have been a little harsh, but she had the enemy in our backyard.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shinra isn’t the enemy anymore.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Like the flip of a switch, Barret’s fury activated, his nostrils flaring like a bull preparing to charge. “The hell they ain’t the enemy! They always have been, always will be.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cloud never flinched. “You asked me to come back to see what was going on, and I have. I don’t think that they are.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You gotta be kidding me. This is just the first step, takin’ over Edge.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, so what? Who else would do it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Barret threw his hands in the air, the tips of his fingers brushing against the ceiling. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Anybody </span>
  </em>
  <span>else!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’ve invested time and money into Edge. It wouldn’t be standing if not for them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Planet wouldn’t have nearly gone to pieces if not for them!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wouldn’t the best way to redeem themselves to be to give back?” Cloud asked. “And if I recall right, Rufus wasn’t responsible for most of it. At least not for his existence.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They both knew the name. Neither had to say it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Barret wouldn’t be deterred, his rage toward the entity that destroyed his life remained full to the very brim of the pot. "We can't let them have this power!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"WRO is being funded by Rufus. They’ve always had it. The question is what are they going to do with it this time. And taking over Edge is small compared to what they could leverage. Let it go." His eyes narrowed, his last words closer to a command than a request.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Barret momentarily faltered, his eyes shifting to and away from Cloud as he struggled beneath the weight of his indignation. The battle against Shinra’s intentions was lost for the moment. He quickly pivoted to another that he thought he would win. “Even so, a rat like a Turk has no business bein’ under this roof.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cloud shook his head. “That’s not your call.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That rage came firing back on all cylinders. “Are you defending those leeches!?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. I’m defending Tifa’s right to choose what she wants.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If what she wants puts them kids in danger, my </span>
  <em>
    <span>family </span>
  </em>
  <span>in danger, I’m gonna make it my call.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cloud caught Barret’s heated stare with his own. “So you threaten to take the kids away to make your point?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a second, he almost appeared apologetic, but his words were at odds with the conflict swirling behind his eyes. “I’m trying to protect them!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>While he was reluctant to push Barret’s buttons, little did he know his own would be pressed. Cloud’s temper cracked, his voice raising uncharacteristically to a volume he rarely used outside of the battlefield. “What the hell do you think Tifa’s been doing this whole time while you’ve been gone? She’s been taking care of Marlene. She’s basically her mother.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Barret’s voice darkened, an accusatory sap dripping from his mouth. “You got a lot of nerve talkin’ about me bein’ away. At least I come back whenever I can. At least I answer my goddamn phone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The accusation stung, and it was all Cloud needed to reel his emotions back in. The fight wasn’t about them nor about their egos. It was about keeping the family together; it was about making peace.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was about Tifa.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re right. I messed up,” he admitted, a steady calm returning to his person. “I had my reasons, and I should have been here. We were both wrong to leave her with that responsibility.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Barret continued to dig. “I’m gone for Marlene’s future, for Denzel’s future. Can you say the same?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cloud paused, then sighed. “I can’t.” The sudden regret of his choices hit his throat. He swallowed it, and it felt like razors sliding all the way down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then you can fuck right off.” Victory flashed across his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It pissed him off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t do that either. Tifa sacrificed a lot for us. It’s not your right to stand in the way of something she wants and neither is it mine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tifa’s happy with the kids, with the bar. She was unhappy when you left her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Less of a sting, more of sickeningly slow piercing to his chest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He witnessed the beginnings of the slow decay of a woman he would sacrifice himself for, a woman he would travel to hell and back if it meant she was safe for just another day. He didn’t know what he expected when he came home—perhaps he expected more of the same. Open arms, a welcoming smile, an understanding expression that hid a pain Tifa would never verbally express. Instead, he was greeted with anger, bitterness, and a hollow chasm, emptied by something unrelated to him, unrelated to his absence. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The decay continued to erode from within—they just couldn’t see it. Barret needed to understand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then it came to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s something I think you should see. It’s in Tifa’s room, on her nightstand, or her corkboard. You’ll know it when you see it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Barret shook his head. “I ain’t got no business going in her room.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I won’t tell if you won’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The intensity of Cloud’s rock hard stare shook loose the remainder of his hesitation. Slowly, Barret opened the door and left the office. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once he was alone, Cloud took in a deep breath. He didn’t know if it was the right call, to invade her privacy to prove a point, to make him see how wrong he was for his forceful intervention. Would it be justified if Barret saw as clearly as he did now? He wasn’t certain, but he knew Barret was partly responsible for her disposition, for the start of the decay that entered her heart, and Barret was the only tangible target he had to focus on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Footsteps signaled Barret’s return. He passed through the doorway silently, shutting the door carefully behind him. He was visibly somber. “Helicopter lessons, huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cloud didn’t reply. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Barret sighed, running a fleshed hand over his head. His tone lost its combative edge. “I can’t accept it. There ain’t no room for him here. He’s responsible for Sector 7. He’s responsible for Denzel’s parents.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Denzel forgave him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shock registered immediately on his face, eyes widening at the declaration. “What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Reno told him what he did, and Denzel forgave him.” Cloud looked at him pointedly. “Maybe that’s a lesson to us all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Barret shook his head. Disbelief settled on his knitted brows. “He’s just a kid. He don’t understand.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He understands perfectly and you know it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He could see it then, a semblance of understanding, maybe even acceptance, slither its way through the shield of stubbornness Barret erected around himself. Perhaps there was a glimmer of hope to truly get through to him, to peel away the layers of toxicity that currently coated their family unit. It was his mission now, above all else, to see them come together. He would settle for nothing else.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So I apologize.” Barret said, his voice softening. “Then what? I ain’t forgiving him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not asking you to. But you should... we should trust Tifa’s judgment.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A narrowing of his eyes returned, yet it was void of the menacing glare that once accompanied it. “You advocating for this? This...whatever it is? She broke it off with him, you know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cloud couldn’t help but smirk. “Actually, he broke it off with her. I guess he thought the family was more important than staying.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Barret had the decency to look ashamed, stunned by the tidbit of information. It didn’t take him long to shake himself out of it. “Well, one good deed don’t wipe out the other shitty ones. Word is he got himself suspended over that crap in the Plaza.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cloud frowned at the statement, but wasn’t surprised. It was to be expected if Rufus was being true to his word, and the decision lent more confidence that he was. “This isn’t about him. It’s about Tifa. It’s about letting her make her own decisions without our interference. That’s not fair to her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You leaving wasn’t fair to her.” The barb was weak and filled with petulance. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can deflect all you want, but she’s miserable now because of you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something seemed to suddenly spark in Barret’s eyes—a deep, hidden regret. He finally seemed to break. “I didn’t mean to hurt her. I just... she needed to see what she was doin’. It ain’t right. She was--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Betraying her family?” Barret appeared as if struck, but didn’t respond. Cloud continued. “You trust family to do what’s best for them, and you’re there for them when they make mistakes. You’re not her father—you can’t dictate her life for her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But Marlene—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you take her, that’s on you. But are you really going to be able to live with yourself, taking her from the only stability she’s ever known? Do you think she’d forgive you for that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A knock at the door stopped them in their proverbial tracks. Barret cast a rueful glance at Cloud as he turned to the door and opened it wide. Beyond the doorway stood Marlene, a sweet smile on her face and arms behind her back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry to interrupt, but Tifa’s home. She said she’s gonna make dinner soon.” she looked to Barret, her smile never failing. “You should go help her, </span>
  <em>
    <span>daddy</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wasn’t sure if Barret noticed, but there was an underlying command from the girl that Cloud had grown to recognize in her speech. Something about it made him wonder if she knew precisely what they were discussing only moments ago. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Barret paused, looking over his daughter before giving a small smile in return. “You right. I will.”  With a last look to Cloud, he moved past Marlene and down the hall. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The weight was small, but it lifted from his shoulders at the conclusion of their discussion. He couldn’t know what Barret would say or do now, but he planted the seed all the same. It was all he could hope for, and at the moment, it was enough. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cloud motioned to follow, but Marlene stepped further into the room, blocking his assumed path. “I have a job for you, Cloud.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He smiled, a hand landing on his hip. “Oh yeah? What kind of job?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marlene rolled her eyes. “A delivery, obviously.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t work for free, you know,” he said playfully.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She angled her head skyward as she hummed in thought. Her eyes suddenly lit up, as if a lightbulb flashed above her head. “How’s a hug, whenever you want one?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cloud couldn’t help but chuckle. As her smile slowly faded, he quickly accepted the job. “Okay, deal. Let’s see this delivery.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>From behind her back, Marlene produced a colorful portrait. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was instantly hit with a brick of recognition. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The face was starkly familiar with a set of aqua eyes, spikes of red around the crown with a hair tail of the same color, curled around a shoulder, and a pair of dark, shaded ovals at the forehead. The captured grin on the portrait was uncanny to its assumed model.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I need you to give this to Reno.” Marlene said, breaking through the silence that had befallen them. He wondered how long he’d been standing there, staring. “He said he was going to come back for it, but… well, just give it to him for me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The insinuation weighed heavy, and heavier still was the presence the Turk left behind. Slowly, Cloud took the drawing and looked it over again. “Do you have a message with the delivery?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marlene thought a moment before answering, her finger tapping against her chin. “Tell him… ‘I delivered’.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cloud nodded. “You got it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marlene smiled again and moved off. Stopping short of the doorway, she turned, that smile thinning out to an expression much too old to fit her cherubic vista. “Actually, could you also tell him something else?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a beat of hesitation that was unlike the girl, a beat of consideration as she appeared to choose her words carefully, considerately. “I forgive him, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She left before he could reply. It was just as well—he had no reply to give.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Within his brief moments of solitude, Cloud looked again at the drawing in his hand. A man who once carried out some of the most egregious missions Shinra had to execute had suddenly found his way into the hearts of his family. He was at odds with himself, if it was something he should welcome or rebuke. In the end, it wasn’t his decision. Just like he told Barret, their family was a tightly knit unit, built on their bonds and not on rule. Who they cared for, who they loved, who they forgave, was for them to choose.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Reno was gone now, wasn’t he? Exiled by his own volition, the cord cut by his own blade. He made the choice to turn from them, from her, and save the family from fracturing. He could have stayed, he could have fought for what he wanted. He chose to leave. It was for the right reasons, wasn’t it?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His thoughts trailed to Barret then and his stubborn indignation, the continued hatred that seared through to the marrow of his bones. He understood it—it was difficult not to, given their shared history and similar experience. Through his travels, however, he learned how crucial it was to let go of the things that ailed him, to remove the power it held over him, and It was high time Barret did the same. Perhaps he would eventually, but that was not this soldier's new mission.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cloud spared a final look to the drawing, to the vibrant red and aqua blue and cocky smirk before slipping it beneath some papers on his desk. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his phone and flipped it open. With the appropriate contact located, he sent a message:</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Hey Johnny. I need a favor.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Time to find his new target.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This story is a complete revamp of an older work and will be continued until its conclusion.  Most things from the previous version will likely change, some things may stay the same.</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>